He took me to where the poor woman lay, very white and exhausted, but she brightened up as soon as she saw me approach, and the black nurse who was attending to her drew back.
“Ah, Sarah,” I exclaimed, as I went to her side, “I am sorry to see you like this.”
She paid no heed to my words of condolence, but caught me by the wrist.
“Where is that box?” she said eagerly.
“The box? The one Hannibal carried down?”
“Yes; where is it?”
“I don’t know,” I said.
“What? You don’t know? Oh, Master George!”
“It was brought up from the boat, and put in the enclosure somewhere.”
“Thank goodness,” she said with a sigh.