CHAPTER XI. THE OLD MAN WHO KNEW EVERYTHING
He was startled by a cough close at hand.
He turned sharply, and peering, saw a small, hunched-up figure sitting a couple of yards off in the shadow of the enclosure.
“ Have ye any news?” asked the high-pitched wheezy voice of a very old man.
Graham hesitated. “None,” he said.
“ I stay here till the lights come again,” said the old man. “These blue scoundrels are everywhere—everywhere.”
Graham’s answer was inarticulate assent. He tried to see the old man but the darkness hid his face. He wanted very much to respond, to talk, but he did not know how to begin.
“ Dark and damnable,” said the old man suddenly. “Dark and damnable. Turned out of my room among all these dangers.”
“ That’s hard,” ventured Graham. “That’s hard on you.”
“ Dar
