“To whom? To you or me?”
“Nay, it is too far off,” said he.
“Is’t a spirit?” said I.
“Ay,” said he, getting to his feet. “Let us be gone.”
“Whither?” asked I.
“To the Cells.”
As we set off, I asked him why he was so much afraid at the volcan.
“The lad descried us,” said he—“did you not see it? If he told the Doctor, we may say good night!”
“Can’t we escape?” said I.
“Escape!” said he, “from this island?”