"Yes; the medicine saved him. Didn't you see his chest move?"
"Yes," I replied, thinking that but a small thing to go on.
"That showed the medicine was in time," returned Quilca. "It has begun its work, and all will be well."
Quilca spoke so confidently that, had I been the patient, I should have started on the road to recovery at once.
"Will he stay here long?" I asked.
"Who knows?" replied Quilca. "The chief gives orders; the servants obey."
"But he will return at some time?"
"It is likely."
"And will he take a message to my mother, do you think?"
"Oh yes," said the Indian; "I had forgotten. Besides"—and he touched the cord supporting the silver key—"he is your servant, as I am."