was quite true, but not all his kindness could make up to us for
loss of liberty. Barriero and the other three prisoners seemed quite
resigned to their fate, but Alzura was always hankering after the
delights of Lima and home, while I, too, longed very much to see my
parents and friends. So we often sat for hours watching the margin of
the lake, envying the men who went ashore. They carried on their heads
whatever bundles they had, and we carefully noted the landing-place, as
well as the track across the morass which they appeared to take.

"It seems easy enough, doesn't it?" Alzura would say; "but in the dark
it would be different! Think of the quagmires, Juan! Caramba! the
sergeant was right. We had better give up our dreams, Juan, eh?"

I felt sure that this was wisely spoken, but somehow the next day we
again went to look at the opposite shore and possible freedom. That
horrible morass had a wonderful fascination for us. We thought of it
by day and dreamed of it by night; but the weeks slipped away, and
still we were prisoners on the islet.

The new year came, and in May 1824 we were joined by another captive.
This was a treat for us, as he brought news from the outside world. He
told us there had been many disturbances, that Bolivar was now
undisputed ruler and leader of the Patriots, but that the end of the
war seemed as far off as ever.

"If they keep us till the country is at peace," said he, "we shall die
of old age on this islet."

CHAPTER XXIV.

A DANGEROUS JOURNEY.

"I think," remarked Alzura, one day toward the end of June, "I'll get
the sergeant to put me in irons."

"Why?" I asked in surprise.

"Because sitting here and looking at the land is driving me crazy."

"Then don't look at it."

"I can't help it, and that's the truth. Wouldn't it be grand if we
could only cross that morass safely!"

"But we can't!"

"No," said he; "but suppose we could? Suppose there came a night when
it was just dark enough to hide us, and yet light enough to show us the
track? Wouldn't it be a feather in our caps if we could get back
safely to Miller?"

"It would; but we should lose our nerve in that horrible swamp, even if
we reached it."

"Very likely; and our lives too. Let's go back to the hut."

We had often talked like this, but now there seemed more purpose and
earnestness in my chum's manner. I looked at him closely as we
returned to our quarters, and wondered if he had decided t