"Away with you, man." When alone, Harry Hogan turned his arm-chair sideways towards the fire.
Then, filling himself a pipe--for in his foreign campaigning he had acquired the habit of tobacco-smoking--he stretched his sinewy legs across a second chair, and composed himself for meditation.

An hour went by; the host looked in to see if the captain required anything.

Another hour sped on, and the captain dozed.
He awoke with a start.

The fire had burned low, and the hands of the huge clock in the corner pointed to midnight.

From the passage came to him the sound of steps and angry voices.
Before Hogan could rise, the door was flung wide, and a tall, gaunt man was hustled across the threshold by two soldiers.