Trevelyan still remained motionless.
"Have they gone?" Stewart asked, looking up at him, "I can't turn my head to see."
"They've gone," said Trevelyan.
"Then sit down on the edge of the bed—carefully, if you can; jars hurt. I've a good deal to say and the time's short—Mackenzie will be back before long."
"You want to give me messages?"
"No," said Stewart, "It's about yourself. Why were you afraid?"
The lump in Trevelyan's throat broke, and something of the old strength came back then.
"It was Cary," he said, hoarsely.
"I thought so. It was a risky thing to have tried, though—that shooting. It might have gone deeper, or someone else might have seen you."
"You—saw—me—then?"