“Yes, Smithson—it ought,” sighed the lieutenant in a husky whisper; “but, if I broke down, it would be absurd.”
“But you wouldn’t break down, sir. See how correctly you played it this evening.”
“Yes, I did—didn’t I? You think I could do it, don’t you?”
“I’m sure you could, sir, if you would only forget about being nervous.”
“I must try,” said the lieutenant. “We are very near now.”
They were now where the lamps had grown fewer, and consequently the road between was much darker; but there was light enough for Dick to see that they were passing a series of detached houses, built upon the same plan, standing back some forty yards from the road, and approached by semicircular carriage drives from gate to gate. Trees were plentiful in the grounds, and overhung and darkened the footpath; so that, as they passed the second gateway, the lieutenant gave a violent start, for from close up to the wall there came a gruff voice—
“Night, gentlemen!”
“Eh! You quite startled me,” said the lieutenant. “I didn’t see you.”
“No, sir. Don’t want to be seen,” replied the man. “Get some queer customers down here sometimes, and obliged to keep a sharp look-out.”
“Yes; quite right,” said the lieutenant, feebly; and he walked straight on for about a hundred yards before speaking.