“Nothing more, Somers. I am used up.”
“You will be better soon.”
“Never, my dear fellow.”
“Don’t give up.”
“I wouldn’t give up while there is a fibre left of me to lean on; but I am almost gone. Somers, take care of yourself now. You can do me no good; follow this road till you come to the river, and then find a boat, and float down to the blockading ships.”
“I shall not leave you, De Banyan,” exclaimed Somers, horrified by the suggestion.
“You can’t do a thing for me. I shall die in a few hours. I didn’t think I was so near gone when I left the camp, or I wouldn’t have burdened you with the care of me.”
“I should have been caught before this time, if it hadn’t been for you. I will never desert you, De Banyan. God would not suffer me to live, if I should do so mean a thing!” replied Somers, earnestly.
“As you love me, Somers, save yourself. It would be the greatest favor you could do me to insure your own safety,” replied the sufferer, in quivering tones.
“I will not leave you, but I will save you. I can and will,” added Somers, with energy. “You shall not die. Keep a good heart for a little while, and you shall be saved.”