"There is a guard at the door, Mr.Passford." "He may stay there; we don't want anything of him," replied Christy.
"I see no other way out of this den, unless we jump down into the street; but I will follow you, sir, if I fall a hundred feet in doing it," protested the master's mate.
"You shall not fall six inches, and you will have no opportunity to do so.

But if you are all ready to follow my lead, we may as well begin at once," added Christy, who had expected that it would require some persuasion to induce his companion to join him.
The first thing the midshipman did was to take off his shoes, and to require Flint to do the same.

With these in their hands, Christy paced off twenty steps, which brought him, according to a calculation he had made in the daylight, under a scuttle that led to the roof of the warehouse.

Stationing the master's mate as a mark, he laid off five paces at right angles with the first line from the party-wall.

It was as dark as Egypt, and the scuttle could not be seen; but the operator had located it mathematically, and was confident as to its position.