"The only thing I can think of," he rejoined after a pause, "is that I
should go around and look up some of the comrades at their addresses
whilst you remain here and get Short to help you put up the type, &c., as
best you can, so that we may remove it all elsewhere. Here certainly
nothing can be done and we must start our new paper amidst new
surroundings."

"So you are thinking of starting a new paper?"

We looked round, surprised at this interruption, for Short had apparently
returned to his slumbers, but we now saw that he had emerged from the
banner and was standing behind us, fully dressed (I discovered later on
that he had discarded dressing and undressing as frivolous waste of time),
a queer uncouth figure with his long touzled black hair and sallow,
unhealthy face. He had a short clay pipe firmly set between his teeth, and
his large lips were parted in a smile. He held his head slightly on one
side, and his whole attitude was somewhat deprecatory and cringing.

"Well," said the doctor, "Isabel and I think that would be the best plan.
You see the _Bomb_ seems thoroughly disorganised, and we think it
would be easier and better to start afresh. I was just saying that I would
go round and hunt up some of the comrades and get their views on the
subject."

"Oh," rejoined Short, "you can save yourself that trouble. One half of
them will accuse you of being a police spy, the others will be ill or
occupied--in short, will have some excuse for not seeing you. They are all
frightened out of their lives. Since the arrest of Banter and O'Flynn I
have not seen one of them near the place, though I have been here all the
time."