"I believe he's a messenger, but he can hardly blame us for welcoming him as we did," he said. "Now if you have anything to say go on with it."
Nares could only just see the negro, who was probably attempting to recover his senses, for he said nothing.
"Who sent you?" asked Ormsgill, who gripped his arm tightly, in the native tongue.
"It is a thing I am not to tell," said the man. "I have a message. Domingo left our village with the boys an hour ago. He heads for the west."
Nares turned to Ormsgill. "Well," he said, "I am not altogether astonished, and the Headman's hint is plain enough. Of course, the thing may be a trap, but it is quite possible he is not unnaturally anxious to get rid of us and Domingo."
Ormsgill looked at the negro. "If he has gone an hour ago how are we to come up with him?"
"The road twists across the high land," said the man. "There is a shorter path through a swamp."
"Then if you will lead us across the swamp so we can reach firm ground in front of Domingo you shall have as much cloth as you can carry."
It was a tempting offer, and though the negro appeared to have misgivings he profited by it, and in another few minutes Ormsgill had roused the boys in the compound.
"If we have no trouble in getting out I think we can feel reasonably sure that the Headman doesn't care whether we worry Domingo or not," he said.