Yes, I am a coward."
"There, there!" Heywood patted his shoulder. "I didn't mean--Here, have
a drink."
The man drained the tumbler at a gulp; stood without a word, sniffing
miserably; then of a sudden, as though the draught had worked, looked up
bold and shrewd.
"Do you?" he whispered. "Do _you_ dare go to the place I show you, and
hide? You would learn."
Heywood started visibly, paused, then laughed.
"Excellent," he said. "_Tu quoque_ is good argument. Can you smuggle
me?--Then come on." He stepped lightly across the landing, and called
out, "You chaps make yourselves at home, will you? Business, you know.
What a bore! I'll not be back till late." And as he followed the
slinking form downstairs, he grumbled, "If at all, perhaps."
The moon still lurked behind the ocean, making an aqueous pallor above
the crouching roofs. The two men hurried along a "goat" path, skirted
the town wall, and stole through a dark gate into a darker maze of
lonely streets. Drawing nearer to a faint clash of cymbals in some
joss-house, they halted before a blind wall.
"In the first room," whispered the guide, "a circle is drawn on the
floor.
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