“Yes, Mas’ Don. He got hisself a good deal hurt somehow.”
“You mean you hurt him?”
“Dunno, Mas’ Don. S’pose I did, but I don’t ’member nothing about it. And now look here, sir; seems to me that in half-hour’s time it’ll be quite dark enough to start; and if I’d got five guineas, I’d give ’em for five big screws, and the use of a gimlet and driver.”
“What for?”
“To fasten down that there trap.”
“It would be no good, Jem; because if they found the trap fast, they’d be on the watch for us outside.”
“Dessay you’re right, sir. Well, what do you say? Shall we begin now, or wait?”
Don looked up at the fast darkening skylight, and then, after a moment’s hesitation,—
“Let’s begin now, Jem. It will take some time.”
“That’s right, Mas’ Don; so here goes, and good luck to us. It means home, and your mother, and my Sally; or going to fight the French.”