“Yes. Yes.”
“Then, when I give the word, heave back. All together, now. Heave!”
They hove: it trembled a little, but did not give.
They hove again and again, but there was nothing for them to catch hold of: they could only hold by the tips of their fingers: the door trembled, but did not give. While Sard searched for something that would give them a purchase, the light went out.
“We can’t shift this panel,” Sard said; “we must try this door at the side.”
He opened it and peered beyond it into a dimness in which there was a flight of stairs.
“Come on,” he whispered. “There’s no one here.”
They crept into the dimness. There was another door beyond the staircase. They went through it into a darkness in which they groped.
Suddenly Sard trod upon somebody, who caught him by the leg. “Look out! Get back,” he cried. Somebody grappled him as he spoke, so that he could not get back with the others. A light suddenly shone out to show him a big buck negro coming at him. An Indian, who had him round the hips, brought him to the ground.
Sard shook himself free, rose to his feet, hit somebody hard, and at once was clinched by the big negro. “You’ve not got me yet,” he said. He hit him on the ribs and kicked his shins; the negro got him by the throat.