He was plunging into a beautiful dreamland when his ears caught a whisper, thin and sharp, above the monotonous babble round the fire.

It came from behind the iron-skinned horse-truck.
'He is not here, then ?' 'Where should he be but roystering in the city.

Who looks for a rat in a frog-pond?
Come away.

He is not our man.' 'He must not go back beyond the Passes a second time.

It is the order.' 'Hire some woman to drug him.