The double concussion resounded like a thunderbolt and died away into cries of rage and pain, and in a moment the whole horde had disappeared.
But, in the midst of these yells and howls, a strange, unexpected—nay what seemed an impossible—cry had been heard! A human voice had, distinctly, called aloud in the French language—
“Help! help!”
Kennedy and Joe, dumb with amazement, had regained the car immediately.
“Did you hear that?” the doctor asked them.
“Undoubtedly, that supernatural cry, ‘À moi! à moi!’ comes from a Frenchman in the hands of these barbarians!”
“A traveller.”
“A missionary, perhaps.”
“Poor wretch!” said Kennedy, “they’re assassinating him—making a martyr of him!”
The doctor then spoke, and it was impossible for him to conceal his emotions.