“Of course not; and I’m a donkey to make so much fuss over you,” said the doctor, changing his manner directly, and speaking in his customary snappish, decisive manner. “But I object to anybody else killing you both. That’s my business. Am I not your surgeon?”
Dost said nothing; but I saw the tears in his eyes as he followed close behind me and took hold of the lapel of my jacket as he whispered softly—
“Oh, sahib!”
“Well,” cried Brace, after a few explanations, “how is the major? how did you get on?”
“Our friend Dost took me safely there, and I stayed with the poor fellow for hours. He is terribly cut about, but far better than I expected, and I believe that those women will nurse him round.”
“Thank God!” said Brace, earnestly; “and I hope we shall be able to give him comfort before long by our news.”
“I hope so,” said the doctor, bluntly. “You are not upset, then, by your night’s experience? You mean to go on?”
“I mean to go on. Yes, doctor, at once. But about you and the major?”
“I am sorry to say that the poor fellow must take his chance now. Dost was of opinion that we could not get in and out again safely, and I did not need to be told. We had a very narrow escape of being made prisoners.”
“But, Lacey, the nursing?”