Part 27 (1/2)

To my horror and astonishment, I saw that his leg was bandaged, and a red stain was showing through.

”Why, Tanner, old chap,” I cried, catching his hand as my eyes were blurred; ”I didn't know you were hurt.”

He looked quite pleased at my weakness, and the emotion I showed.

”Oh, it ain't much,” he said, smiling and holding on to my hand very tightly; ”but it pringles and sticks a bit, I mean stingles--no, I don't! My tongue's getting all in a knot, it tingles and p.r.i.c.ks a bit.

I say, Gnat, old chap, you don't think those chaps carry poisoned knives, do you?”

”What, like the Malays? Oh no.”

”I'm glad of that, because it made me feel a bit funky. I thought this stinging might mean the poison spreading.”

”Oh no, don't think that,” I cried; ”and some one told me a Malay prince said it was all nonsense about the knives being poisoned.”

”He did?”

”Yes; he laughed, and said there was no need to poison them, they were quite sharp enough to kill a man without.”

”That depends on where you put it in,” said Barkins grimly.

”Yes,” I said; ”but what did the doctor say?”

”What about?”

”Your leg.”

”He hasn't seen it yet.”

”Why, Tanner,” I cried, ”you haven't had it properly bandaged.”

”No; I felt so sick when I got on board, that I sneaked off here to lie down a bit. Besides, he had poor old Blacksmith to see to, and the other chaps.”

”But didn't he see the bandage when you went there?”

”No; there was no bandage then. It's only a bit of a scratch; I tied it up myself.”

”How was it?”

”I don't hardly know. It was done in a scuffle somehow, when we had got the first prisoner in hand. He began laying about him with a knife, and gave it to two of our lads badly, and just caught me in the leg. It was so little that I didn't like to make a fuss about it. Here, stop, don't leave a chap. I want to talk to you.”

”Back directly,” I cried, and I hurried on deck so quickly that I nearly blundered up against Mr Reardon.

”Manners, mids.h.i.+pman!” he said sharply. ”Stop, sir. Where are you going?”

”Doctor, sir.”

”What, are you hurt, my lad?” he cried anxiously.

”No, sir, but poor Barkins is.”