But there was no answer, and almost at this moment they reached the landing place. A cheer went up from those on shore, and Smalley came forward with outstretched hand. "I can't thank you enough. Come, let my wife thank you, too. Where is Jackson?"
Phipson shook hands with them both.
"Where is Mr. Jackson?" asked Ruys.
There was no help for it but to speak out at once before her. As the words left Phipson's lips Smalley was beside the boat, and they tenderly lifted out the wounded man and placed him on an improvised couch of greatcoats. They stood round him in a sad group while Smalley with gentle hands examined the wound, and the silence was only once broken when a great sob burst from honest Serferez Ali, and the old man turned away with his head hanging down. Ruys held a lantern for her husband, and Phipson noticed that there was not a quiver in her hand, although her lips were blue.
After a time Smalley rose to his feet and shook his head. "He can not even be moved from here," he whispered, "and all my appliances are under that blazing roof. God works very hardly sometimes." The dying man moaned feebly, and Ruys was on her knees beside him.
"What is it? Can't you speak? Oh, husband, can not you save him?"
"God knows that I would!" said Habakkuk sadly, and then his wife bent low to hide the tears that fell fast down her cheeks.
That strange power of hearing, that supreme strength which comes to persons at the last, came to Peregrine now.
"Die!" he said; "who says I am going to die? I am young yet; my work is not done. Mother," he cried, "I am coming!"
Ruys bent down and kissed the hot forehead softly. There was a shivering of the limbs, and the strong young spirit had passed.