We were masters of the bout and the engine was ours.
"Captain Nepeen," said I, "do you and three others go back to the stairs-head and hold it until I come. If they are afraid to face us here, they'll never face us at all. Why, look at it. Seven men out in the light, as fair a target as a woman might ask for, and they show us their heels. Go back and hold the gate, and I and those with me will answer for the engine. Time afterwards to hunt the vermin out."
He took my order unwillingly, I could see. A greater devil for a fight than that smooth-faced American sailor I shall never meet in all my days. Keen as a hound after quarry, he would have hunted out the vermin, I do believe, if the path had led down to the mouth of Hades itself.
"You will not go alone, captain," cried he, "that's plain madness."
"I take two to my call," said I, "and leave you the rest."
"But what—aren't you afraid, man?"
"Afraid! Of whom?" said I. "Of an old man—but that's too far ahead. I'll speak of it when I come up, captain. Perhaps it's only my own idea. But it's good enough to go on with."
He had still something to say, and, looking first into the black cavern, which we had filled with shot, and then down the stairs towards the engine-room, he went on presently:
"You take a big risk and I hope you'll get out of it. How many do you expect to find below?
"One," said I, quickly, "and he a friend. It's a strange story, captain, and wonderful, too. But it will wait."