"Back-answerin him."_

A fourth voice, very black and bitter, flared up:

_"That's im!--bangs you up in the firin line, then sticks you if you look at him. If it's storm, we got to do it. If it's sally, we got to meet it. If it's neether, we got to set round and take Piper's pot- luck, while he and his chaps lay safe out o range and, shoots us if we bolt."

"Where's the good in boltin?"_ came the brooding voice. _"Nowhere to bolt to. Jack Ketch's our only friend this side the water."_

There was a stony silence.

"_How long's this ---- game goin to last?--that's what I want to know,_" came the black and bitter voice at last.

The ghastly treble chimed in:

"_That's what I says to im last night when e come his rounds. 'We're only poor chaps, my lord,' says I. 'We've lost alf the number of our mess in your service. And now I'd make bold to ask how long you're goin to keep us here?'_

"'_Why,' says he, suckin his hanky, 'that depends on your sweet selves. You may go as soon as you've took the cottage_.'

"'_And what if the sogers come first?' I says. 'There's a camp at Lewes, you know, my lord.'_

"'_Why then,' says he, and I lay he thought he was funny, 'I'll leave you to the hands of your beloved compatriots. And what can a good man want more'n that_?'

"'_We're the Gap Gang, my lord,' says I_.

"'_Well,' says he, 'if that don't suit you, hurry up and take the cottage and have done with it. I'm gettin tired o this messin about business_.'

"'_Beg pardon, my lord,' says I, 'but what are we to ave for our trouble, when we ave took it_?'

"'_Why,' says he, very pleasant, 'if you're good, Friend George, when the job's done, per-raps,' says he, 'per-raps I'll give you a lift back to France in my lugger layin on the beach there_.'

"'Our _lugger, sure-ly, my lord,' says I_.

"'_No, my friend,' says he, 'it was the late lamented Diamond's. Now it's our n.o.ble Emperor's, Gorblessim!--a derelict picked up on the igh seas by one of His Majesty's frigates_.'"

The treble ceased.

"_Pretty position for the genelmen o the Gap Gang, ain't it_?"

came the black and bitter voice. "_Shot takin the place, or hung if you don't_."

"_Ah_," came the treble again, "_it wouldn't take me long to do somethin to him. See. Sow_!"

"_Only you'd ave to get somebury to old is ands first_," grumbled Red Beard.

"_Scream_!" said the fat man, unheeding. "_I'd make his soul talk_."

The brutal Toadie rumbled off into laughter.

CHAPTER LII

HARE AND HOUND

I

Brutes!

But--they knew nothing of the man-hole they were cl.u.s.tered round.

The boy's heart soared.

He pa.s.sed on, as quiet as a mole.

Burrowing beneath the lowest h.e.l.l, he had heard the voices of those in torment within hand's touch of him.

Now heaven opened its far door. He crawled towards the light. It was no longer a star; it was an eye, the eye of a soul, the Soul of Souls.

And it was loving him.

The boy crawled on.

The great earth, warm and dark about him, gave him strength. She was a friendly great beast, breathing and blowing all round him. He could hear her, and feel her. On Beachy Head he had been a fly crawling on her hide; now he was the same fly swallowed. He was creeping along her gullet towards her mouth. Motherly old thing, she covered him well, and he was grateful to her. That good thick flesh of hers stood between him and that which he did not care to contemplate. As he crawled he kicked her in the ribs to show he recognized that she meant well.

The light was growing on him now. The wind blew on his damp forehead.

He could see the round of sky, blue against the black arch of brick.

Warily he peeped through the screen of tamarisk that veiled the opening.

The creek lay a few feet below. Across it, the smooth side of the Wish flowed upward.

A sentinel crowned the little hill, but his face was seaward.

Otherwise the coast was clear.

No!

On the slope of the Wish, facing him, a man was lying.

II

The man was lying on his back half-way up the slope, reading a little brown book.

Kit could not see his face; but he had no need.