it, that goes without saying, nor, for that matter,
did he. But wild horses wouldn't have dragged the truth from him. He
was always a rare plucky one, was little Dolly Venn, and he behaved as
such that night.

"Better leave me? sir," he said; "I'm dead weight in the boat. Do you
go to the beach, and perhaps the ship will come back. You've been
very kind to me, Mister Begg, so kind, and now it's 'good-bye,' just
'good-bye' and a long good-night."

"Aye," said I, "and a sharp appetite for breakfast in the morning. Did
you ever hear that I was a bit of a strong man, Dolly? Well, you see, I
can pick you up as though you were a feather, and now that I have got
you into my arms I'm going to carry you--why, where do you think?--into
Ruth Bellenden's house, of course."

He said nothing, but lay in my arms like a child. Peter Bligh had
fallen headlong by the gate of the bungalow, and Seth Barker was about
raving. I had trouble to make him understand my words; but he took them
at last and did as I told him.

"Open that door--with the bludgeon if you can't do it otherwise. But
open it, man, open it!"

He drew himself up erect and dealt a blow upon the door which might
have brought down a factory chimney. I ran into the house with Dolly
Venn in my arms, and as I ran I called to Barker, for God's sake, to
help Mister Bligh. There would be no one in the house, I said, and
nothing to be got by whispers. We ran a race with death, and for the
moment had turned the corner before him.

"Get Mister Bligh to the house and bar up the door after you. The fog
will fill it in five minutes, and what then? Do you hear me, Seth
Barker--do you hear me?"

I asked the question plainly enough; but it was not Seth Barker who
replied to it. You shall judge of my feelings when a bright light
flashed suddenly in my face and a pleasant voice, coming out of
nowhere, said, quite civilly:

"The door, by all means, if you have any; regard for your lives or
mine!"

CHAPTER XII

THE DANCING MADNESS

It was a great surprise to me that here should have been one of Edmond
Czerny's men left in the bungalow; and when I heard his voice I stood
for a full minute, uncertain whether to go on or to draw back. The
light of the lamp was very bright; I had Dolly Venn in my arms,
remember, and it was all Seth Barker's work to bring in Mister Bligh,
so that no one will wonder at my hesitation, or the questions I put to
myself as to how many men were in the ho