Rex helped him with his jacket, and the girl cut away his shirt. The place was laid bare — a gash about three inches long. The bullet had ploughed its way up the shoulder-blade and out at the top.
“You stay put,” said Rex. “I’ll go after Simon.”
“One moment.” The Duke detained him with his free hand. “First let us hear from Mademoiselle if it is quite impossible to obtain horses.”
“Absolutely impossible, Monsieur. The peasants had been warned. I tried four farms, and at each it was the same. They dared not sell their horses. There is danger even now that one of them may have spoken to the police about my visit.”
“I thought, Mademoiselle, that these people were your friends. It is as I feared. We shall bring trouble upon you — ah, gently with my shoulder, please.”
“The water is a little hot. There is one peasant only who I do not trust — the man Rakov. I would not have tried there but that I know him to be always greedy. I thought he would be tempted to take a risk for the high price which you would pay.”
“In that case we must leave at once — we must not be found here.”
“That I will not allow.” Marie Lou’s little pointed chin stuck out firmly. “Where would you go, at night, and in the snow? Monsieur le Duc is of my own people; we are in a strange land together; I will hide you if they come.”
“You stay here,” said Rex. “I’ll go and see if I can’t find any trace of Simon.”
De Richleau made an effort to rise; the girl pushed him back. “Monsieur the American is right,” she said. “Let him look for your little friend; you will stay here that I may bandage this poor shoulder. Afterwards I will hide you in the loft.”