I nodded, judging from the episode of the mummy and the policeman that the Sergeant was likely to be a useful man. As I was sitting next to it, I opened the door for the Captain, whereon the erect shape of Sergeant Quick, who had clearly been leaning against it, literally fell into the room, reminding me much of an overset wooden soldier.
“Hullo!” said Orme as, without the slightest change of countenance, his retainer recovered himself and stood to attention. “What the deuce are you doing there?”
“Sentry go, Captain. Thought the police might change their minds and come back. Any orders, Captain?”
“Yes. I am going to North Central Africa. When can you be ready to start?”
“The Brindisi mail leaves to-morrow night, Captain, if you travel by Egypt, but if you go by Tunis, 7.15 a.m. Saturday is the time from Charing Cross. Only, as I understand that high explosives and arms have to be provided, these might take awhile to lay in and pack so as to deceive customs.”
“You understand!” said Orme. “Pray, how do you understand?”
“Doors in these old houses are apt to get away from their frames, Captain, and the gentleman there”—and he pointed to the Professor—“has a voice that carries like a dog-whistle. Oh, no offence, sir. A clear voice is an excellent thing—that is, if the doors fit”—and although Sergeant Quick’s wooden face did not move, I saw his humorous grey eyes twinkle beneath the bushy eyebrows.
We burst out laughing, including Higgs.
“So you are willing to go?” said Orme. “But I hope you clearly understand that this is a risky business, and that you may not come back?”
“Spion Kop was a bit risky, Captain, and so was that business in the donga, where every one was hit except you and me and the sailor man, but we came back, for all that. Begging your pardon, Captain, there ain’t no such thing as risk. Man comes here when he must, and dies when he must, and what he does between don’t make a ha’porth of difference.”