He poured some brandy between George Forester's lips, and held a bottle of ammonia to his nose. Presently there was a deep sigh, and then Forester opened his eyes. For a minute he looked round vaguely, and then his eye fell upon Ronald.
"So you got me out of the hands of the Kaffirs, Captain Mervyn," he said, in a faint voice. "I caught sight of you among them as I went down. I know they have done for me, but I would rather be buried whole than hacked into pieces."
"I did my best for you, Forester," Mervyn said. "I am sorry I was not up a minute sooner. Now, Forester, you see I have been hit pretty hard, too; will you do one thing for me? I want you to confess about what I was speaking to you: it will make all the difference to other people."
"I may as well tell the truth as not," Forester said; "though I don't see how it makes much difference."
"Doctor," Ronald said, "could you kindly send and ask Captain Twentyman and Lieutenant Daniels to come here at once? I want them to hear."
George Forester's eyes were closed, and he was breathing faintly when the two officers, who had ridden up a few minutes before with their corps, came up to the spot.
The surgeon again gave the wounded man some strong cordial.
"Will you write down what he says?" Ronald asked Captain Twentyman.
The latter took out a note-book and pencil.
"I make this confession," Forester said, faintly, "at the request of Captain Mervyn, who risked his life in getting me out from among the Kaffirs. My real name is George Forester, and at home I live near Carnesford, in Devonshire. I was one night poaching in Mr. Carne's woods, with some men from Dareport, when we came upon the keepers. There was a fight. One of the keepers knocked my gun out of my hand, and as he raised his stick to knock me on the head, I whipped out my knife, opened it, and stuck it into him. I didn't mean to kill him, it was just done in a moment; but he died from it. We ran away. Afterwards I found that I had lost my knife. I suppose I dropped it. That's all I have to say."