“It’s your duty to Mr Blunt and your people, sir, to stand fast and order us to go up.”
“To certain death?”
“Yes, if it means it, sir.”
“Then you have your doubts,” cried Stan. “There! I’m going to make a rush up. Who’ll follow?”
“All of us,” came in a burst.
“Ready, then,” cried Stan, cocking his pistol. “Now then; once more—ready?”
No one spoke, but there was a sharp clicking of pistol-locks, and then a pause, while Stan stood with his left foot on the second stair, ready to bound up, but listening intently.
“No one there,” he said in a sharp whisper, and rushed up into the light.