“No there’s not.”
“How do you make that out?”
“Because there are no stairs at all.” Then Jamie jumped up, but rolled on one side, the brandy he had drunk had made him unsteady. “I’ll show you mate—mate—yes, mate. There three times now will do for times I haven’t said it. There—in my room. The floor is rolling; it won’t stay steady. There are cramps in the wall, no stairs, and so you get up to where it all is.”
“All what is?”
“Forfeit, forfeit!” shouted Jamie. “Say general or something military. I don’t know. Ju won’t let me go up there; but there’s tobacco, for one thing.”
“Where’s a candle, Corporal?”
“There is none. We have no light but the fire.” Then Jamie dropped back on his stool, unable to keep his legs.
“I am more provident than you. I have a lantern outside, unlighted, as I thought I might need it on my return. The nights close in very fast and very dark now, eh, Commander?”
Mr. Scantlebray went outside the cottage, looked about him, specially directing his eyes toward the Glaze. Then he chuckled and said:
“Sent Miss Judith on a wild goose chase, have I? Ah ha! Captain Coppinger, I’ll have a little entertainment for you to-night. The preventives will snatch your goods at Porth-leze or Constantine, and here—behind your back—I’ll attend to your store of tobacco and whatever else I may find.”