“Hello, McCuaig,” he called, in a quiet, clear voice, “where are you? It's Dunbar, you know.”
He drew the door shut after him. The corporal was for following him, but the M. O. interposed.
“Stop out!” he ordered. “Stay where you are! You have done enough mischief already.”
“But, sir, he'll kill him!”
“This is my case,” said the M. O. sharply. “Fall back all of you, out of sight!”
Together they stood listening in awestruck silence, expecting every moment to hear sounds of conflict, and cries for help, but all they heard was the cool, even flow of a quiet voice, and after some minutes had passed, the sound of moans, mingled with a terrible sobbing.
The M. O., moving toward the corporal and his guard, said in a low tone:
“Take your men down the passage and keep them there until I call for you.”
“Sir,” began the corporal.
“Will you obey my orders?” said the M. O. “I'm in command here! Go!”