"Good lad," says Penfeather, clapping him on brawny shoulder. "Bide where you are, Jo, and Fortune with you and yours. This way, Martin."
So having taken our leave of Bym, Godby and I followed Adam along the passage, guided by the Bo's'n's lanthorn until, turning a sudden, sharp corner, we plunged into pitchy gloom wherein I groped my way until Penfeather's voice stayed me: "Easy all!" says he, softly. "Have your pistols ready and heed how you come." Creeping cautiously I found myself amid leaves that yielded before me, and stepping through this natural screen, I stumbled into a bush and presently found myself standing in a small copse dim-lighted by a waning moon; and never a sound to be heard save the soft whisper of leaves about us and the faint, far cry of some night-bird.
"Ha!" says Adam at last, gazing away to the sinking moon, "So our journey begins, and from the look o' things, Martin, from the look o' things here's going to be need of all your resolution and all my caution ere we can see the end. Come!"