'Where the deuce have I got to? Is that you, John? By heaven, I remember!' His fingers went groping weakly to his breast, then with a groan he struggled to his feet. 'The ruffians have robbed me!'
But the effort exhausted him; he sank back putting his hands to his head.
'I don't understand this. What has happened? John, where am I?'
Rallywood explained hurriedly.
'We're on the up line, Major. Have another pull at my flask, and see if you can get to the Ford block-house. The night mail will be on us directly. Ah, there are the men,' as a stolid sergeant thrust his weather-beaten face in at the door.
Rallywood gave the necessary orders rapidly, then turned to the Major.
'Are you badly hurt? Do you think you can ride?' said he.
'Ride! of course I can ride. How far is it to Révonde?'
Rallywood put his arm round him, and helped him very tenderly from the carriage.
Counsellor stood up in the howling wind and looked about him into the wild night.