rth answering: indeed, I knew it was not meant
for an answer; it was a palpable gibe. I held my tongue, but now I knew
I should get no information out of this soft-voiced ruffian until it
suited him to give it. Our fate was still a mystery--if we were beaten
in the struggle that was imminent, and I could not flatter myself with
hopes of our victory.

I bade him good-night, for there was no reason to dispense with
ceremonies; we were still enjoying our armed truce. But I had got no
farther than the ladder when he hailed me through the gloom.

"I've pitched her to, now, doctor. You can sleep like a babe, and the
Princess too."

I stopped--I knew not why; perhaps I had still a faint hope of
discovering something.

"That means you will attack," I said calmly.

His figure loomed out upon me in the fog, the red cigar end burning
in his mouth. "You don't mean that, my lad," said he, in an easy,
affectionate tone. "I'm Lancashire born and Lancashire bred, and I'm
shrewd enough to know a bit. You don't mean that, bless you. Look ye
here, doctor; go and take your rest, and pray God to deliver you from
your folly. A foolish man you were and that you be. You'll die that, my
lad, I fear. Yet I would give you another chance. I liked you when I
sat opposite to you in the tavern there."

"Ah, Holgate," said I, sighing deeply. "How many weary years ago, and
your doing!"

I admit that this was theatrical; it was designed as such, and as a
last appeal. I was afraid of that man, and that is the truth. I drew a
bow at a venture. From the change in the position of the burning edge I
gathered that he took his cigar out of his mouth. He was perceptibly
silent for a time. Then the light went back.

"Well, you'll have a sound sleep if you take my advice," he said in his
normal tones.

"And then ... a sounder," I said lightly.

"You always take too much for granted, doctor," he replied, laughing.
"By the Lord, I wish I had your forward mind."

"You shall have anything you like of mine directly," I said flippantly,
and began the descent of the ladder.

I was conscious that he leaned over the barrier of the bridge watching
me, for I saw the point of his cigar, but that was soon swallowed up in
the darkness, and I saw nothing more. The cold was so intense that my
fingers had grown numb as I talked with Holgate, and I could hardly
feel the iron; moreover, my feet were like lumps of ice and seemed to
rest on nothing as they met the run