“Of course. Who did you think it was?”
“The enemy—we did not know—some of the others come to our help,” was the confused answer, given in a duet.
“Nay, it was me, my sons; he gave me such a chance—lighting up a whole box of lucifers. I could see him splendid. Going to burn you out, wasn’t he?”
“No; to see if we were dead, and, if not, to fire again.”
“I’m afraid the other beggar has got away.”
“But you had some one with you?” said Dallas eagerly.
“Yes, I suppose so, but it is so plaguy dark. I was so long away that I made up my mind—or something I can’t explain made it up for me—to come straight on and get to you early in the night; but that blessed sledge got heavier and heavier, so that I had to stop and rest and have a pipe now and then. Last time I was going to stop I was so near my shanty that I thought I’d go round by it, and see how things were there. So I did; left the sledge and crept up to it, to find a bit of fire smouldering, showing some one lived there; but nobody was at home. No, that isn’t right, for when I got inside I struck a match, and somebody was at home; but he didn’t live there. Understand?”
“That scoundrel who was bitten by the dog?” cried Dallas excitedly.
“Was he there?” cried Abel.
“His mummy was,” said Tregelly. “I dunno how they could do it—I couldn’t. I didn’t want to live in such company as that. I stayed just as long as the match burned, and then I came away as fast as I could. Ugh! it wasn’t nice. Those fellows can’t be men.”