“I have come to see the doctor,” I said.  “I need attention.”

He was not one of the sergeants who had been drunk in the D.O.A.G. the night before, but a man of a higher mental type, although no less surly.

“It will be for the doctor to say what you need when he has seen you!” he answered, turning his back and busying himself about the room.  Will translated, and I limped out again.

By and by the doctor came, and passed me sitting on the steps amid a throng of natives who seemed to have all the imaginable kinds of sores.  He took no notice of me, but sent out the sergeant to inquire why I had not stood up as he passed.  I did not answer, and the sergeant went in again.

Fred by that time was simply blasphemous, alternately threatening to go in and kick the doctor, and condemning Will’s determination to do the same thing.  Finally we decided to see the matter through patiently, and all sat together on the steps watching the activity of the square.  There was a lot going on—­bartering of skins and hides—­counting of crocodile eggs, brought in by natives for sake of the bounty of a few copper coins the hundred—­a cock-fight in one corner—­the carrying to and fro of bunches of bananas, meat, and grain in baskets; and in and out among it all full pelt in the hot sun marched the chain-gang, doing the township dirty work.

By and by Schubert emerged from the boma gate followed by natives carrying a table and a soap-box.  He set these under a limb of the great baobab that faced the boma gate not far from the middle of the square.  I noticed then for the first time that a short hempen rope hung suspended from the largest branch, with a noose in the end.  The noose was not more than two feet below the branch.

Schubert’s consideration of the table’s exact position, and the placing of the soap-box on the table, was interrupted by the arrival of Coutlass, his Greek companion and the Goanese arm in arm, followed closely by two askaris who shouted angrily and made a great show of trying to prevent them.  One of the askaris aimed his rifle absurdly at Coutlass, both Greeks and the Goanese daring him gleefully to pull the trigger.

They purposely came close to us, not that we showed signs of meaning to befriend them.  They were simply unable to understand that there are degrees of disgrace.  To Coutlass all victims of government outrage ought surely to be more than friendly with any one in conflict with the law.  Personal quarrels should go for nothing in face of the common wrong.

“There is going to be a hanging!” Coutlass shouted to us.  “They thought we would remain quietly in camp with that going on!  Give us chairs!” he called to Schubert.  “Provide us a place in the front row where we may see!”

Schubert grinned.  He returned to the boma yard and presumably conferred with an officer, for presently he came out again and gave the Greeks leave to stand under the tree, provided they would return to camp afterward.  Later yet, Brown came along and joined us on the steps, looking red-eyed and ridiculous.