“No bleeding fear.” The man passed into the passage and closed the door noiselessly behind him. Hi stole back to the cell to rouse the drunkard. It was strange how differently the glare of the fire seemed from the yard. It was not near at hand, but at the far end of the town. All the same, it was burning fiercely and perhaps drawing near to Matiro’s. Hi shook the drunkard’s arm.
IX
“Come along,” Hi said, “wake up. Come on out of this.”
“What’s that?” the man said.
“Wake up, man,” Hi said, “we’ve got the door open; we can get away.”
The man sat up, pulled out a sheath-knife, spat, and said:
“I’ll cut your guts out.”
“Never mind my guts,” Hi said, “they’ll keep; but we may be spotted, if we don’t hurry.”
“Garrrr,” the man screamed, “Garrrr and guts. See? Garrrr and guts. Harrar.” He rose upon his feet, with a brandish of his knife. “Come on the lot of you,” he yelled, “you don’t daunt me. I’m Henery Peach Kezia and my blood’s vitriol. I’ll seal you for your tombstone. Harrar you planets, I’ll put some of your lights out, once I get a hold of you.” Here he lifted up his voice into a yell.
“Ayayayayay,” he yelled, “I’m the frog who would a-wooing go. See me hop.”