"
"No, sir, no; it is not my duty"--the Captain turned away, with his hair
upon the rise. "I was sent here to look for saltpetre, not spectres. No
officer in His Majesty's service can be expected--Bob, and Wilkins, are
you there?"
"Yes, sir, yes--we have had quite enough of this; and unless you give
the orders--"
"Here she comes, I do declare!" whispered Carne, with extraordinary
calmness.
"Bob, and Wilkins, give me one arm each. Make for daylight in close
order. You may be glad to see your grandmother, young man; but I decline
to have anything to say to her. Bob, and Wilkins, bear a hand; I feel a
little shaky in my lower timbers. Run for your lives, but don't leave
me behind. Run, lads, like the very devil!" For a groan of sepulchral
depth, and big enough to lift a granite tombstone, issued from the
vault, and wailed along the sombre archway. All the Artillerymen fled,
as if the muzzle of their biggest gun was slewed upon them, and very
soon the sound of horses' heels, urged at a perilous pace down the hill,
rang back as the echo of that grand groan.
"I think I did that pretty well, my Captain," cried Charron, ascending
from the vault with dripping boots; "I deserve a glass of Cognac, if
they have left me any. Happy is Stoobar that he was contented, without
breaking his neck at the inspector's step."
"He has satisfied his conscience," Carne answered, grimly; "yet it
cannot be blameless, to make him run so fast.
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