ydney gags him, you tie his hands, and the
Duke his feet. We shall do it any day or hour that you give the word."

The friends' hands met as they bent over the monolith, and Featherstone,
perhaps to show Geoffrey what he could do, almost crushed his hand in a
giant grip.

"Now, tell Sydney and the Duke as soon as you can. To-morrow is our
first day of opportunity, and we must be ready. Should it rain heavily
or should the mist hang, we shall take our chance. All we have to do is
to secure the Warder just as the five o'clock bell rings, and lie down
over there inside the wall of this little yard. No one ever looks over.
They will think as they pass from the farm that we have marched in as
usual."

Before night Featherstone had told the Duke and Sydney, and the manner
of those convicts changed mysteriously from that moment. Their gloom
vanished. They smiled at Geoffrey every time he met their eyes. They
were constantly whispering to each other and smiling, and often they
looked long at the Warder and measured him as a foeman.

The next day was Wednesday. It rained in the morning, and the hearts of
the four political prisoners went up at the steady down-pour. But the
sun burnt through the clouds at noon, and the moor glistened under his
beams all the rest of the day.

"Don't fret, Duke," whispered Featherstone. "Our day is coming; we are
young yet."

The Duke bowed at the kind words, and he and Sydney smiled broadly at
Geoffrey to show him that they were strong-hearted, just as they looked
serious to make the Warder think they were working very hard indeed.

The next two days were fine, and the Saturday opened with a smile that
fell like a pall on the hearts that pined for freedom. But about three
o'clock in the afternoon, as the two toilers on the windlass "heaved"
laboriously, the Duke gave a little cry of joy, so low that only Sydney
heard him. A large drop of rain had fallen on his hand, which he held
toward Sydney. Five minutes later Geoffrey, who had been watching the
clouds, bent his head to Featherstone, who was working in a cavity they
had made in the cairn.

"To-night, I think," he said. "It promises splendidly."

Featherstone, who was quite concealed in his hole, laughed quietly, and
pointed to his biceps.

Geoffrey glanced at the two below and found them watching his eye with a
question. He gave a little nod, and they both smiled, and soon after
turned their gaze on the Warder, who, to escape the ra