“Ah, poor dear soul!” replied the Doctor, and his eyes looked moist. “Worked to death, thank goodness!”
“Thank goodness?” said Archie wonderingly.
“Yes, my lad. It keeps her from thinking and fretting about Minnie. I’ll tell her you asked after her, my boy. It will please her, for she doesn’t know what a reckless young scamp you are, and she always talks of you as if you were her own boy. Going?”
“Yes, Doctor.”
“All right and square, my boy? No shot or spear holes in you?”
“No, sir; I’m as sound as sound.”
“That’s right. If you do get into any trouble, you know where I am; and though I don’t want you, you will be welcome to our mess—and a nice mess we are in, eh, Archie?—Come, look sharp, you British soldiers, and clear away all this scum.”
“Only too glad, sir,” said Archie, and he hurried away to have a few words with the sentry who commanded the landing-place, and who was so intent at the window, watching the edge of the jungle, that he did not hear his visitor till he spoke.
“Got company, Mister Archie, sir? Yes; that French chap. Doctor said if he was not brought up here where he’d be quiet he would go off sudden like. Not very cheerful company, for he’s awful bad, and when he does talk it’s all in his parly-voo, kesky say, pally wag bang lingo that don’t mean nothing as I can make out.”
“Ah, poor fellow! I suppose he’s very bad.”