"Here, what is it, Jecks?" I cried, catching our companion's arm; for he suddenly gave a lurch as we struggled through the loose sand, and nearly fell.
"Bit done up, sir," he said, with a piteous smile. "Wound in my leg makes me feel sick, and the sun's hot. Is there a drop o' water to be got at anywhere?"
I looked round at the glowing sand and rocks with a feeling of horrible despair coming over me. Yes, there was water--hundreds and thousands of miles of water, blue, glistening, and beautiful in the calm morning, but none that we could give a parched and fainting man to drink.
"Try and creep along a little farther," I said. "Let's get you in hiding, and then Ching and I will search for some and bring it--"
As I spoke I remembered that I had nothing that would hold water, and I felt constrained to add--
"Or fetch you to it."
"All right, sir," said the man, with a weary smile; "allus obey your officers."
Ching went to his other side, and supported him some fifty yards farther, our way now being through quite a chaos of rocks, which had been loosened in bygone times from the cliff above. Then, so suddenly that we were not prepared, the poor fellow dropped with his full weight upon our arms, and we had to lower him down upon a heap of drifted sand.
"No go, sir," he said softly; "I'm a done-er."
"No, no; rest a bit, and we'll find a cool place somewhere. I daresay we shall see a cave along here."
"Can't do it, sir," he said feebly; "I've kep' on as long as I could.
It's all up. Never mind me. If those beggars see you, they'll have no mercy on you, so go on and try and get away."
"Yes; velly muchee makee haste. Pilate come soon."
"Yes, sir; he's quite right, sir. You two cut and run."
"And let them come and murder you, while we go?" I said.
"Well, yes, sir," said the poor fellow faintly; "there's no good in having three killed when one would do."
"Look about, Ching," I said sharply. "Is there any place where we can hide?"
"No," he replied disconsolately. "Only place for lit' dog; no fo' man."
"You can't do it, sir," said our poor companion. "Good-bye, sir, and G.o.d bless you; you've done all a orficer can."
"Oh, have I? I should look well when Mr Reardon or the captain says, 'What have you done with your men?'"
"Don't! stop a-talking, sir," he cried, clinging to my hand. "You know what these beggars are, and you'll have 'em on to you, sir."
"Yes; and we shall have them on to you if we don't find a place soon.
Here, Ching, don't run away and leave us;" for I could see the interpreter climbing up a gap in the cliff.
"He's quite right, sir; you go after him. I tell you it's all over and done with me. If you got me along a bit farther, I should only go off all the same. It's all up. Now, pray go, sir. It's no use to stay."
"Hold your tongue!" I cried angrily; for with the feeling on me strong that the pirates might be down on us directly, and the only thing to do was to set off and run for my life, the poor fellow's imploring words were like a horrible temptation that I was too weak to resist.
"I must speak, sir," he whispered, with his eyes starting, and his lips black and cracked by the heat and feverish thirst caused by his wound.
"There, you see, Mr Ching's gone, and your only chance is to follow him."
I looked up, and just caught sight of one of the Chinaman's legs as he disappeared over the edge of the cliff to which, high up, he had crawled. And once more the desire to escape came upon me, but with increased strength, that made me so angry at my weakness that I turned upon the poor fellow almost threateningly.
"Will you hold your tongue?" I whispered hoa.r.s.ely.
"Will you go, sir?" he pleaded. "I tell yer it's all up with me, and the Teapots can't hurt me worse than what I've got now. Arn't got your dirk, have you?"
"No; why?"
"'Cause it would ha' been an act o' kindness to put me out of my misery, and save me from being cut to pieces by them there wretches. Now, sir, good-bye, and G.o.d bless you, once more! Tell the skipper I did my duty to the last."
I broke down as I sank on my knees by the poor fellow; and I didn't know my voice--perhaps it was being husky from the heat-as I said to him, very chokily--
"And if you get away, tell the captain I did my duty to the last."
"Yes, sir; but do go now."
I jumped up again, ashamed of the blinding tears that came for a few moments into my eyes.
"Look here," I said; "if you weren't so weak, I'd kick you, old a man as you are. Likely thing for a British officer to sneak off and leave one of his men like this!"
"But the beggars are coming, I'm sure, sir."
"Very well," I said gloomily, "let them come. It's all very well for a full-moon-faced Chinaman to go off and take care of himself, but it isn't English, Tom Jecks, and that you know."
The poor fellow hoisted himself a little round, so that he could hide his face on his uninjured arm, and as I saw his shoulders heave I felt weaker than ever; but I mastered it this time, and knelt there with a whole flood of recollections of home, school, and my ambitions running through my brain. I thought of my training, of my delight at the news of my being appointed to the _Teaser_, of my excitement over my uniform; and that now it was all over, and that in all probability only the sea-birds would know of what became of me after the Chinamen had done.
Then I thought of Ching's cowardice in leaving me alone with the poor wounded fellow like this.
"I knew he wasn't a fighting man," I said sadly; "but I couldn't have believed that he was such a cur."
At that moment there was a quick scrambling sound, which made me start to my feet, and Tom Jecks started up on his elbow.
"Here they come, sir," he gasped. "Now, sir," he whispered wildly, "do, pray, cut and run."
"With you," I said resolutely.
He made an effort to rise, but fell back with a groan.
"Can't do it, sir. Without me. Run!"
I put my hands in my pockets without a word, and then started, for a voice said--
"You think Ching lun away allee time?"
"Ching!" I cried, grasping his arm.
"Yes; no good. Can't findee big hole to hide. Ching tumblee down off rock, and hurt him."