But Jack did nothing of the sort.
The chief cause of his lingering was his desire to obtain the revolver belonging to Miss Marlowe.

Recalling the paucity of firearms among the people on the boat he felt that a single weapon could be ill spared.
But above and beyond this cold truth was a vague, shuddering suspicion, amounting to a belief, that the young woman would soon need that very weapon; that, without it she would become another of the unspeakable victims of the fiends who made the Sepoy Mutiny one of the most hideous blots that darken the pages of history.

He compressed his lips and swore that the revolver should be recovered, if the thing were possible, failing in which he would compel her to take his own.
The first thing was to learn whether there was more than one person in the house and what business had brought them there.

His own return was not expected, so that that advantage was in his favor.

He stepped lightly upon the veranda and, like a burglar in his stocking feet, passed across the porch and pushed back the door far enough to admit him.