They set out across the yard; some rats in the drain sat up to look at them. Hi saw their eyes glisten. All was still in the municipio. The door into the building was shut but not locked; Hi opened it and peered into a dark passage droning with mosquitoes.
“It’s through here, then to the right,” Hi whispered.
“Lummy,” the man said, “I ain’t half got the sours in my sweetbreads.”
“We must get the other man out,” Hi whispered.
“What other man?”
“The drunk man.”
“Garn.”
“We can’t leave him to be burned.”
“Burned. Blimey, you can see the fire ain’t anyways near. Besides, ’e’s bin lunching; ’e’s necked all what come in the waggon.”
“Well, I’ll get him out of the cell anyway. Will you give me a hand?”