“I tell you he’s there! I won’t uncover his body a second time—it’s horrible! If see him you must, do it for yourself!”
“No, I thank you!” said John emphatically. “What makes you so nice all at once?”
Stornaway thrust the lantern into his hand. “Damn you, take it, then! Do you think I’m lying? Oh, you fool, how can I see what I’m about, if you swing the light all round? Hold it steady!”
The Captain, affecting an awed interest in his surroundings, swept the beam along the wall. “Hold hard! I’ve never been in such a place as this!” he said, swiftly calculating the distance from a projecting ledge of rock to the opening into the passage. “Why are you in such a quirk? A dead man can’t hurt you.” He moved towards the ledge he had noticed, and sat down upon it, directing the lantern-light on to the mound of stones and rubble.
“Be quiet, be quiet!” Stornaway said hysterically. He looked over his shoulder, as he bent to lift a rock from the heap. “What are you doing?”
“Taking a stone out of my shoe,” replied the Captain, who was, in fact, removing his shoes. “What the devil should I be doing? Brr! How cold it is here! Make haste, and let’s get out of this tomb!”
“You’re holding the lantern so high I can’t see!”
“Is that better?” John asked, setting it softly down on the rock from which he had risen.
“Bring it nearer!” snapped Stornaway.
“Very well. Let me put my shoe on again first, however!” John said, both brogues gripped in his right hand, and his eyes watchful on Stornaway’s bent back.