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Hatteras shot a puzzled look at his friend. Walker,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], however,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], did not notice it, and continued, "I saw Burton's account of his pilgrimage in your room; I might have known that journeys of the kind were just the sort of thing to appeal to you."
"Oh, yes, that's it," said Hatteras, lifting himself up in bed. He spoke eagerly--perhaps a thought too eagerly. "Yes, that's it. I have always been keen on understanding the native thoroughly. It's after all no less than one's duty if one has to rule them, and since I could speak their lingo--" he broke off and returned to the subject which had prompted him to rouse Walker. "But, all the same,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], it wouldn't do if the natives got to know."
"There's no difficulty about that," said Walker. "I'll give out that you have come back with the fever and that I am nursing you. Fortunately there's no doctor handy to come making inconvenient examinations."
Hatteras knew something of surgery, and under his directions Walker poulticed and bandaged him until he recovered. The bandaging, however, was amateurish, and, as a result, the muscles contracted in Hatteras' thigh and he limped--ever so slightly, still he limped--he limped to his dying day. He did not, however, on that account abandon his explorations, and more than once Walker, when his lights were out and he was smoking a pipe on the verandah, would see a black figure with a trailing walk cross his compound and pass stealthily through the wicket in the fence. Walker took occasion to expostulate with his friend.
"It's too dangerous a game for a man to play for any length of time. It is doubly dangerous now that you limp. You ought to give it up."
Hatteras made a strange reply.
"I'll try to," he said.