Superintendent," says the Sergeant, pointing to the place on the door, "has grown a little in importance since you noticed it last.
Superintendent Seegrave's respect for the Sergeant was great; but his respect for himself was greater still.
There IS such a thing, Sergeant, as making a mountain out of a molehill.
"There is also such a thing as making nothing out of a molehill, in consequence of your head being too high to see it." Having returned his brother-officer's compliments in those terms, Sergeant Cuff wheeled about, and walked away to the window by himself.
The Sergeant stood at the window with his hands in his pockets, looking out, and whistling the tune of "The Last Rose of Summer" softly to himself.
Turning from the window, after a minute or two, the Sergeant walked into the middle of the room, and stopped there, deep in thought, with his eyes on Miss Rachel's bed-room door.
To this effect the sergeant and the nearest men were speaking under their breath, when Joe and I came up.
The sergeant ran in first, when we had run the noise quite down, and two of his men ran in close upon him.
"Here are both men!" panted the sergeant, struggling at the bottom of a ditch.
Water was splashing, and mud was flying, and oaths were being sworn, and blows were being struck, when some more men went down into the ditch to help the sergeant, and dragged out, separately, my convict and the other one.
"It's not much to be particular about," said the sergeant; "it'll do you small good, my man, being in the same plight yourself.
"Lookee here!" said my convict to the sergeant. "Single-handed I got clear of the prison-ship; I made a dash and I done it.