"No, sir, but that don't make it any better."
"It doesn't, of course, and I was rather annoyed at the time-Oh, devil take you, Jim, don't look at me like that! I'm not dead yet!"
"If-if you had been killed, sir-'twould have been my fault."
"Rubbish! I'd a sword, hadn't I? For heaven's sake don't worry about it any more! Have you brought all my baggage?"
"Yes, sir. It shan't occur again, sir."
"Certainly not. Jenny is well?"
"Splendid, sir. Will you still trust me with your pistols, sir?"
Carstares groaned.
"Will you have done? 'Twas an accident, and I have forgotten it. Here's my hand on it!" He grasped Jim's as he spoke, and seemed to brush the whole subject aside.
"Have you disposed of that horrible coat you tried to make me wear the other day?"
"I gave it to the landlord, sir."
"I should have burned it, but perhaps he liked it."
"He did, sir. Will you try to go to sleep now?"
"If you had a shoulder on fire and aching as mine does, you wouldn't ask such a ridiculous question," answered Jack snappishly.
"I'm sorry, sir. Is there aught I can do?"
"You can change the bandages, if you like. These are prodigious hot and uncomfortable."
Without another word Salter set about easing his master, and he was so painstaking and so careful not to hurt the ugly wound, and his face expressed so much concern, that Carstares controlled a desire to swear when he happened to touch a particularly tender spot, and at the end rewarded him with a smile and a sigh of content.
"That is much better," he said. "You have such a light touch, Jim."
The man's face reddened with pleasure, but he said nothing, and walked away to the window to draw the curtains.