But all this was no proof that he was not a villain.
"Is that mortification ?" asked the sufferer, looking ruefully at the black, swollen hand and fore-arm, and wincing under the doctor's touch as he took up the artery and tied it.
"No, no; only the stagnation of the blood." "Will the limb ever be good for anything again ?" "Oh yes; neither the bone nor nerve has suffered injury; the ball has glanced from the bone, passed under the nerve, and cut the humeral artery.
Your tourniquet has saved you from bleeding to death.

'Tis well you knew enough to apply it.

The flesh is much torn where the ball passed out; but that will heal in time." The doctor's task was done.

Nap had set a plate of food within reach of the stranger's left hand, and he was devouring it like a hungry wolf.
"Now, sir," said the good doctor, when the meal was finished, "I should like to hear how you came by that ugly wound.

I can't deny that things look suspicious.