"What!" broke in Hammer. "Jenson dead? I thought you said they weren't——"
"So I did, sir; so I did; and quite right they weren't. Near as we could figure it out, sir, Jenson died o' fright, and a good job, I says. So we got you up, and wi' that I went for the doctor and druv him clean into the jungle, I was that worked up. Werry sorry I am to say it, but where 'e is I don't know, and what's more, I don't care. We made a good job o' them askaris, though, and took two o' them Dutchmen alive. So there you be, Mr. 'Ammer, all ship-shape and proper." Silence settled inside the tent, broken only by the choking bubble of Solomon's ancient pipe. Hammer realized that it had all taken place that afternoon, and this was evening; but the snakes were not deadly after all——
"I made a blessed fool of myself, then!" He looked up and caught his words, wondering if they knew, by any chance. Well, since the girl had been unconscious and Jenson dead, they didn't. "However, no matter about——"
"Yes, Hammer, it does matter." Sara spoke gravely, her eyes glistening. "You see, after we brought you here you were out of your head, like you were back there at the plantation, and you went over and over that horrible scene—oh, Hammer dear!" There was a catch in her voice. "Didn't—didn't I tell you once upon a time that when the great moment came——"
"Don't, Sara!" begged Hammer earnestly, trying to smile and failing dismally. "Yes, you were right, and it doesn't matter whether I made a fool of myself or not. I——"
"Beggin' your pardon, sir and miss," broke in Solomon hastily, as he rose, "I'd better see as them Arabs put out a guard in case——"
But neither of them heard him, for they were looking into each other's eyes, and Hammer suddenly found that words would not come to him.
"Sara, I—I'm afraid—I love you."
He dared not move, for he had blurted the words out before he thought, and now fear nestled in his heart. Then a soft hand touched the red whip-wale on his cheek, and——
"Hammer, dear, I—I'm glad, I love you!"