I placed my lips to his ear in turn and whispered that there was some one left in the hut.
“Jimmy go see,” he said softly; and before I could stay him he was gone.
“What is it?” whispered the doctor; and I told him.
The doctor drew his pistol—I heard him in the darkness—and grasped my arm, as if to be ready for flight; but just then I heard a voice in the hut which made me start with joy. Then there was a rustling sound, and Jimmy came round the corner of the hut.
“All rightums!” he whispered. “Find somebody’s fader!”
“You here again, my boy!” whispered a familiar voice.
“Yes!” I said, catching the speaker’s arm; and then, “Doctor,” I said, “this is the prisoner who saved me—and set Jimmy free!”
“Doctor!” said the poor fellow in a low puzzled voice, as if his mind were wandering. “Yes, I am the doctor! They made me their doctor when—the fever—when—oh! my boy, my boy! why did you come back?” he cried excitedly, as if his brain were once more clear.
“To fetch you and—the other prisoner!” I said.
“Mr Carstairs?” he said earnestly. “Hush, hush! They are coming back—to kill me, perhaps! I must go.”