"Out you come, young fellow! Your mates are all dead men." "They're not my mates." "Never mind; come you out and let's have a look at you." I did so, and was confronted by a short, thickset man, who recognized me with a smile, but whom I failed to recognize.
"I might have guessed it was Mr.Cole," said he.

"I knew you were here somewhere, but I couldn't make head or tail of you through the smoke." "I'm surprised that you can make head or tail of me at all," said I.
"Then you've quite forgotten the inquisitive parson you met out fishing?
You see I found out your name for myself!" "So it was a detective!" "It was and is," said the little man, nodding.

"Detective or Inspector Royds, if you're any the wiser.
"What has happened?
Who has escaped ?" "Your friend Rattray; but he won't get far." "What of the Portuguese and the nigger ?" I forgot that I had crippled Jose, but remembered with my words, and wondered the more where he was.
"I'll show you," said Royds.

"It was the nigger let us in.

We heard him groaning round at the back--who smashed his leg?
One of our men was at that cellar grating; there was some of them down there; we wanted to find our way down and corner them, but the fat got in the fire too soon.
Can you stand something strong?
Then come this way." He led me out into the garden, and to a tangled heap lying in the moonlight, on the edge of the long grass.