“I must speak, sir,” he whispered, with his eyes starting, and his lips black and cracked by the heat and feverish thirst caused by his wound. “There, you see, Mr Ching’s gone, and your only chance is to follow him.”
I looked up, and just caught sight of one of the Chinaman’s legs as he disappeared over the edge of the cliff to which, high up, he had crawled. And once more the desire to escape came upon me, but with increased strength, that made me so angry at my weakness that I turned upon the poor fellow almost threateningly.
“Will you hold your tongue?” I whispered hoarsely.
“Will you go, sir?” he pleaded. “I tell yer it’s all up with me, and the Teapots can’t hurt me worse than what I’ve got now. Arn’t got your dirk, have you?”
“No; why?”
“’Cause it would ha’ been an act o’ kindness to put me out of my misery, and save me from being cut to pieces by them there wretches. Now, sir, good-bye, and God bless you, once more! Tell the skipper I did my duty to the last.”
I broke down as I sank on my knees by the poor fellow; and I didn’t know my voice—perhaps it was being husky from the heat-as I said to him, very chokily—
“And if you get away, tell the captain I did my duty to the last.”
“Yes, sir; but do go now.”
I jumped up again, ashamed of the blinding tears that came for a few moments into my eyes.