"I hardly know," returned Jack; "but it's not safe for me to remain much longer here. There was no such a thing as perfection in a mixed world. Cursing himself for his inertness, Jack soon shook off this drowsiness, and set to work in earnest. Out of sight of that tell-tale window, the two officers darted across the grounds, speedily gaining the lee of the mansion walls. Another glass, Jack. Straitened circumstances would not have mattered; a mother would have managed somehow. Like most officers, he’d had it especially made, for a man who loved danger had need of a precision instrument of defence. This "fatal retreat for the unfortunate brave" was marked by a low wooden railing, within which stood the triple tree.
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