WITH BRIGANDS 207

He looked pale and weak, and was evidently just recovering
from a severe illness.

“Why, Stanislas!” he exclaimed, “this is a pleasure
indeed. I never for a moment dreamt of seeing you. I
heard from the Jew who guarded me that you got away, but
I was afraid that you had been badly wounded. Why, my
brave fellow, what brings you here?”

“Thave come to be with your honour,” the man said.
“Tt was, of course, my duty to be by your side. I was
very ill for a week, for I had half a dozen wounds, but I
managed after the assailants left me to crawl back to Mr.
Ramsay’s to tell him what had happened. I don’t remem-
ber much about the next few days. Since then I have been
mending rapidly; none of the wounds were very serious,
and it was more loss of blood than anything else that ailed
me. Mr. Ramsay searched high and low for you, and we
had all given you up for dead till a few hours before this
man arrived with your letter. We heard you had killed
Ben Soloman. I had a long talk with your messenger, who
received a handsome present from Mr. Ramsay, and he
agreed to conduct me here upon my solemn promise that if
the captain would not receive me I would not give any
information on my return as to the whereabouts of the
band. Mr. Ramsay hired a light cart, and that brought us
yesterday far into the forest. We camped there, and I had
not more than a couple of miles to walk to get here this
morning.”

“Have you seen the captain?” Charlie asked eagerly.

“Yes; I was stopped by some sentries a quarter of a mile
away, and was kept there while my guide came on and got
permission of the captain for me to be brought in. When
I met him I had no great difficulty in persuading him to
let me stop, for Mr. Ramsay had given me fifty rix-dollars
to give him; and so, your honour, here I am, and here is a
letter from Mr. Ramsay himself.”