At last Vassall pulled the tent flap back, and Garrod came in. He was well-brushed and tended. He walked without assistance, and his face was composed. Manifestly another change had taken place in him during the last few hours, a change for the better. Jack's heart began to beat more hopefully. There was still something queer about Garrod's eyes. Jean Paul Ascota and Vassall followed him in.
The half-breed constituted himself the sick man's nurse. Seeing a chair, he placed it for him at Sir Bryson's left, and Garrod sat down. Garrod had not greeted anybody on entering. Jean Paul stood over him watchful and solicitous. Mary's warning occurred to Jack, but what was he to do? The half-breed's attitude was irreproachable.
"I am sorry to hear that you have been very sick, Mr. Garrod," Sir Bryson began.
"Yes, sir," said Garrod composedly. "My head has been troubling me very much."
There was a curious, stiff quality in Garrod's voice, but that might easily have been accounted for by what he had been through. In spite of the man's apparent recovery, a dull anxiety that he could not explain, began to shape itself in Jack's breast.
"You are quite yourself again?" continued Sir Bryson.
"Yes, sir," said Garrod.
"Do you remember what happened this morning?"
"Yes, sir, up to a certain point. I had a shock."
"Um!" said Sir Bryson. "This man," pointing to Jack, "accuses you of setting him adrift in the current. Is it true?"