CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE JOSS REVERTS.
We passed through the forest in single file; the girl first, I next; the men hard upon each other’s heels. We found Luke apparently alone. I thought that the Joss had returned for some purpose to the temple.
“What’s he gone for?” I asked.
Luke made a movement with his forefinger, suggesting caution. He spoke in a hoarse whisper.
“He’s not gone; he’s there—in the palanquin.” His voice sank lower. “I rather fancy that he don’t want to be looked at more than he can help. Poor chap! he feels that, to look at, he ain’t the man as once he was.”
Luke grinned. Sympathy did not go very deep with him.
The palanquin was drawn out upon the floor. The girl stooped over it.
“Father!” A voice proceeded from within—a surly voice:—
“I’m here all right; don’t let’s have any nonsense. Tell ’em to be careful how they carry me; I don’t want to be jolted to bits by a lot of awkward fools. They’re to hurry for all that; those devils may be back at any minute. We’ve arranged the things as best we can; Luke will tell them what’s to be taken first.”
Luke volunteered to be one of the palanquin bearers, suggesting that Isaac Rudd should be the other. Isaac glanced doubtfully towards me.
