The surprise and joy of Moses when his friend slapped him on the shoulder and saluted him by name is not easily described.
“I am so glad to see you, old fellow!” he said, with sparkling eyes. “I thought you must be dead, for I’ve tried so often to find out what had become of you. Have some beans and oil?”
He dipped a huge ladleful out of the pot, as if he were going to administer a dose on the spot.
“No, thank you, Moses, I’m a prisoner. These are my guards. I wonder they have allowed me even to exchange a word with you. Must be quick. They told us you had been half-hanged till you were frightened to death.”
“They told you lies, then. I’ve been very well treated, but what troubles me is I can’t find out where any of our comrades have gone to.”
“I can tell only of one. Molloy is alive. I wish I could say he’s well. Of the others I’m as ignorant as yourself. But I’ve seen a friend who—”
At this point he was interrupted by the interpreter and told to move on, which he was fain to do with a cheery good-bye to Moses and a wave of the hand.
Arrived at the prison, he found that Molloy had been removed to a more comfortable room, into which he was also ushered, and there they were left alone together.
“D’you feel better now, my poor fellow?” asked Miles, when the door was shut.
“Better, bless you, yes! I feels far too well. They’ve given me a rare blow-out of beans an’ oil since you were taken off to be hanged, and I feels so strong that the next turn off won’t finish me! I could never have eaten ’em, thinkin’ of you, but, d’ee know, I was quite sure, from the way they treated you as you went out, that it warn’t to be hangin’ wi’ you this time. An’ when they putt me into this here room, an’ produced the beans an’ oil, I began to feel quite easy in my mind about you. It was the man that brought your marchin’ orders that told ’em to putt me here. D’ee know, lad, I can’t help feelin’ that a friend o’ some sort must have bin raised up to us.”