“Come here.”
He was at my side in an instant.
“Take off these bandages. They hurt my arm.”
“My lord, no. The doctor would be angry.”
“So shall I be, if you do not take them off,” I cried. “My arm is like fire.”
It was quite true, for the excitement at my sudden movement had started the wound stinging and aching.
“It might bleed horribly,” said Salaman, humbly. “Let me loosen the bandage, sahib.”
“Very well,” I replied sulkily, quite satisfied now that whoever had been outside the canvas had had plenty of opportunity to get away; and I lay patiently enough, while my attendant loosened and re-tied my bandages before leaving me once more to lie wondering whether I should have another visitation that night, and fervently hoping that whoever it was would take care not to be seen.
I lay awake for hours, but there was not another sound; and at last exhaustion had its way, and I slept till quite late, angry with myself for my drowsiness, and determined not to close my eyes that night.
In the course of the day I sought an opportunity to examine the tent in the direction from which the sound had come, and had there been any doubt in my mind as to whether I had dreamed I had heard a voice, it was now dispersed, for about the height of my shoulder there was a slit about an inch long just sufficient for any one to apply his lips to the opening and speak.