He jumped when he saw it, but he wasn't quick enough, and went down with a bullet in him.

His rifle fell away from him where he couldn't get it without the other man seeing him, and he was bleeding fast, but still sensible enough to know that nobody would start out on a contract of that kind without his magazine full.

It was a tolerably tight place for him--the man was worn out, and almost famishing, and he lay there in the snow, getting fainter every minute, with one leg no use to him." Seaforth looked round as though to see what impression he had made, and though all the faces were turned towards him it was one among them his eyes rested on.

Deringham was leaning forward in his chair with fingers closed more tightly about the glass he held than there seemed any necessity for.

His eyes were slightly dilated, and Seaforth fancied he read in them a growing horror.
"He crawled away into the bush ?" said somebody.
"No, sir," said Seaforth, "he just wriggled into the undergrowth and waited for the other man." "Waited for him ?" said Forel.
"Yes," said Seaforth.