nds, we neither of us
seemed willing to put them into words; both shrank from being the first
to pronounce the sentence of our doom. George Woodley at length broke
the silence, and he did so in a voice the tone of which betrayed strong
emotion.
"This is a bad lookout for us, Master Eden," he said. "What are we to
do?"
"We must portion out the food," I answered, "and make it last as long
as possible. There's the other pheasant, and the hare, two or three
mince-pies, and a few apples, and part of the cheese. With that we
ought to keep from starving a few days longer."
George shook his head, as if to imply that it would be only lengthening
the agony of our suspense; and for a time we remained doing nothing but
listlessly watching the sparkling patch of sea beyond the mouth of the
cavern, in the vague hope that some boat would pass within hail. Owing
to the fact that the entrance arch was low, and our platform was raised
some distance above the water level, our view of the outside world was
very limited, and unless a boat had come close in to the foot of the
cliff we could not have seen her.
How long we remained thus in a state of hopeless inactivity I cannot
tell. The hours of daylight seemed hardly less long and dragging than
those of darkness. Woodley sat by the fire nursing his knees and
sullenly chewing a splinter of wood. At last he roused himself and
stood up.
"It's no good sitting here like this and not making a single bid for
freedom!" he exclaimed. "A thought's just come into my head, and if
you can't suggest anything better, why, I vote we try my plan."
"What is it?" I cried eagerly.
"Why, it's this," he answered. "We must at least try to get outside
where folks can see us, and we can cry for help. Neither of us can
swim, but here's wood, and rope to fasten it together. Why shouldn't
we make a raft?"
The proposal was one exactly calculated to appeal to a boy's
imagination; but when I cast my eyes over our stock of timber, the
possibility of putting the project into actual execution seemed almost
out of the question.
"There's never enough wood here for that!" I answered.
"There may not be sufficient to make a raft that would carry us both,
but there ought to be enough to keep one of us afloat. Look here,
sir," continued the man earnestly: "we've got to get out of this place
somehow, and the sooner the better. If it means running risks, why, we
shall have to run them. We're in
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