"You're not in pain?"
"I should think I was in pain! The bullet must have struck against the skull and then glanced off; and here I've been since this morning, half dead. But I shall get over it."
Simon questioned him anxiously:
"Isabel? What has become of her?"
"I don't know. . . . I don't know," the Englishman said, with an effort. "No . . . no . . . I don't know. . . ."
"But where do you come from? How do you come to be here?"
"I was with Lord Bakefield and Isabel."
"Ah!" said Simon. "Then you were of their party?"
"Yes. We spent the night on the Queen Mary . . . and this morning we were set upon here, by the gang. We were retreating, when I dropped. Lord Bakefield and Isabel fell back on the Queen Mary, where it would have been easier for them to defend themselves. Rolleston and his men were not firing at them, however."
"Rolleston?" echoed Simon.