“My father—the prisoner,” I said again, with my lips now to his ear.
“Prisoner? Yes. At the great hut—the chief’s hut—”
He began speaking again volubly, and then stopped and bent his head.
“At the chief’s hut?” said the doctor excitedly. “Wait a moment or two to give him time to collect himself, then ask him again.”
The poor dazed creature turned to the doctor now, and bent towards him, holding him by the arm this time.
“Chief’s hut? Yes: right across. There.”
He pointed in the direction the savages seemed to have taken, and from whence we could hear the voices rising and falling in busy speech.
My heart leaped, for we knew now definitely where he whom we sought was kept, and the longing, impatient sensation there came upon me to be face to face with him was so strong that I could hardly contain myself.
“Let us get round there at once,” I whispered, “Here, Jimmy.”
There was no answer: Jimmy had crept away.