“Is he really all right?” she asked Evans when she saw that he was not awake.

“Sleep’s the best thing, miss. It’s shock that most people find it hard to get over. I was on a Battleship during the war and, when we was hit, the fellows as suffered from shock were far worse than those as got injured. And if you ask me, miss, the Captain’s done a grand job on his shoulder.”

“I’m glad,” Skye sighed.

But however reassuring Evans might be and however much she might trust Captain Maclean’s ministrations, she could not feel anything but anxious.

*

She was thankful to see the deep brown waters of the River Plate meeting the Atlantic and ahead, surmounting a little rocky hill, the old Spanish fort built against the Charria Indians, which is the first and last landmark of the travelling Uruguayan.

A surgeon was waiting on the quayside of the beautiful harbour and without any explanations Skye took him down to the cabin.

“A nasty wound, señorita,” he said later when he came up on deck, rubbing his newly washed hands together and, with his bald head and big horn-rimmed spectacles, looking rather like a benign seagull.

“But it will be all right?” Skye asked quickly.

“Perfectly. Some years ago it might have caused us a great deal of anxiety, but nowadays with penicillin and the new sulpha drugs to help us there is practically nothing that cannot he cured by care and time.”

“Time is important,” Skye said, “my – my friend has to get back to Mariposa.”

“Mariposa?” the surgeon questioned and looked knowing. “Strange things always seem to be happening in that country. But your friend will have to take it easy for some days at any rate. I will come and see him again tomorrow.”

“Does he need a nurse?” Skye asked.

“Not necessarily,” the surgeon replied. “Your Steward seems to understand exactly what to do.”

“You don’t think there is anything else?” Skye began.

“My dear lady,” the surgeon interrupted her, “I promise you I have done all that is necessary. When it is possible for the patient to be moved without pain, I would like an X-ray. But as far as I can ascertain the bullet has not touched any bones and so we need not worry ourselves unduly.”

“Thank you,” Skye said, “and thank you for coming.”

“It’s a pleasure, señorita,” he said courteously and bowed over her hand before he went down the gangway.

The surgeon’s complacency as to his patient’s treatment was not shared by El Diablo.

“The damn fool seems to think I can stay here indefinitely,” he growled. “I believe I could get up by now, despite what he says.”

“If you attempt to do anything stupid, Evans and I will have to hold you down or, better still, have you strapped to the bed,” Skye cried.