“There’s but one thing more for you to do, Mr. Shelby,” whispered Whitestone.
“What’s that?”
“Save the life of madame, her mother. She’s the only one yet unsaved by you.”
“I will, Whitestone,” I replied, “if I get the chance.”
After a while, though late, the women ceased to come for the water. Presently the sun went down and that day’s work was done.
My belief that Chudleigh was a very fortunate man was deepening.
CHAPTER XXI. THE MESSENGER.
I rose early the next morning, and my first wish was for duties other than keeping the enemy away from the water. I found Whitestone sitting on his camp blanket and smoking his pipe with an expression of deep-seated content.