"What—what," gasped Tom Eccles—"what are you?"—"Hush—hush—hush!"
The perspiration broke out upon his brow, and he leaned against the wall for support, as he managed to say, faintly,—
"Well, hush—what then?"—"Hist!"
"Well, I hear you. Where are you?"
"Here at hand. Who are you?"
"Tom Eccles. Who are you?"—"A friend. Have you seen anything?"
"No; I wish I could. I should like to see you if I could."—"I'm coming."
There was a slow and cautious footstep, and Marchdale advanced to where Tom Eccles was standing.
"Come, now," said the latter, when he saw the dusky-looking form stalking towards him; "till I know you better, I'll be obliged to you to keep off. I am well armed. Keep your distance, be you friend or foe."
"Armed!" exclaimed Marchdale, and he at once paused.—"Yes, I am."