I held my breath, peering through the undergrowth as our pursuers hurried along the false trail I had laid for them before backtracking.
Finally the last fellow passed my hiding place on the heels of his fellows. I hastened back to the trees where I had left Holmes.
He had not moved, now curled up in a ball, shivering – going into shock. I knelt beside him with a curse, removing my overcoat and wrapping it round him snugly. His pain-filled eyes half-opened, fastening upon me with a dim consciousness.
"Watson?"
His voice was only a whimper.
I swallowed hard.
"They're following the false trail I left for them," I soothed, gently turning him over to look at the wound in his left shoulder, far too near his heart.
He gasped in pain, clutching at my arm convulsively with a strangled cry.
"Easy, old fellow – I'm here," I murmured, checking the crude dressing I had only just had time to apply before we had been forced to run for our lives from the remainder of the gang.
"G-get out of here."
"Oh, stop it," I growled, pulling him to his feet gently.
"I c-can't m-move."
"Then I'll carry you."
"You c-can't possibly –"
He finally gave in with a low moan, sagging against me.
I never had carried so important a burden.