“Those poor wounded fellows do suffer so for want of change; but this fish will be delicious. Poor Parker will eat some, I know. If you can get any fruit for my hospital people, pray do so, Mr Roberts.”
“That I will, Miss Linton,” he cried joyously.
“And you’ll catch me some more fish for the poor fellows?”
“Are you going to give all these to the wounded men, Miss Linton?” he said.
“Yes; of course,” she replied.
“Why she’s an angel,” thought Bob to himself, “and I was giving her the credit of being a regular pig.”
“Messenger? For me?” exclaimed Captain Smithers, rising up as a soldier advanced.
“Yes sir; it’s a Malay, and he says he has been sent by the young chief, Ali.”