For the moment I was half-stunned. Then the idea came to me of help being at hand, and I was about to cooey and bring Jimmy to my side, but my lips closed and I set my teeth.
“No,” I thought, “he may escape. If any one is to be taken let it be me; my turn will come later on.”
My captor had evidently been exerting himself a great deal to overtake me, and after binding me he contented himself by sitting upon my back, panting heavily, to rest himself, while, knowing that struggling would be in vain, I remained motionless, satisfied that every minute was of inestimable value, and that once the doctor knew of the black’s success he would use every exertion to get the captive in safety, and then he would be sure to come in search of me.
Then I shuddered, for I remembered what Mr Francis had said about the people being infuriated at such a time, and as I did so I felt that I was a long way yet from being a man.
All at once my captor leaped up, and seizing me by the arm he gave me a fearful wrench to make me rise to my feet.
For some minutes past I had been expecting to see others of his party come up, or to hear him shout to them, but he remained silent, and stood at last hesitating or listening to the faint shouts that came from the glow beyond the trees.
Suddenly he thrust me before him, shaking his waddy menacingly. The next moment he uttered a cry. There was a sharp crack as of one war-club striking another, and then I was struck down by two men struggling fiercely. There were some inarticulate words, and a snarling and panting like two wild beasts engaged in a hard fight, and then a heavy fall, a dull thud, and the sound of a blow, as if some one had struck a tree branch with a club.
I could see nothing from where I lay, but as soon as I could recover myself I was struggling to my feet, when a black figure loomed over me, and a familiar voice said hoarsely:
“Where Mass Joe knife, cut um ’tring?”
“Jimmy!” I said. “My father?”