“Leave that to us,” said the doctor sternly.
“No, no,” cried his new patient. “I have nearly been driven mad during my long imprisonment, but if aught happens to you all I shall go quite out of my mind in my despair.”
“Silence!” said the doctor sternly. “You are badly hurt, and your injury is telling upon your brain. I will not have you dwell upon our position. Look here, you can trust us. We have found our way here, found you, and had you brought to us. Give up to us at once, and trust to our doing what is best.”
“Yes, yes,” said the poor fellow passionately; “but you do not understand. Never mind my arm. I will keep still, and the fracture will mend of itself.”
“Will it?” said the doctor grimly.
“Yes, yes; but look here,” whispered the sufferer; “we must talk; we must decide upon some action.”
“No,” said the doctor, “not now. You do not understand our position.”
“I can guess it,” said the poor fellow wildly. “Think then of mine. I am brought here for you to set my arm; in half an hour at the outside I shall be taken back to my owner. We may not have another opportunity to speak—we may never meet again.”
“Now I insist,” said the doctor firmly. “You will have plenty of time to talk to us by and by.”
“No, no; you do not understand, Morris.”