dirt and mud.

That night they pressed on, and halted only when the field-army was
reached. Then they bivouacked and waited till the following day, when
the march was resumed in a leisurely manner, the guards, however, still
keeping careful watch over their prisoners, while the fierce and
restless Cossacks rode their shaggy ponies on either flank and kept a
scowling eye on the captives.

Phil and Tony saved some portion of their meal of bread daily, cramming
it into their pockets. But it was not till the third night that they
dared to attempt an escape.

"Keep an eye on those Cossack fellows as we bivouack, Tony," said Phil
in an undertone, as the column came to a halt. "They are the ones we
have most to fear. Up to this, I notice that half of them have nightly
gone out as pickets, ready to cut off any escape, while the others have
camped alongside us. If only we can see the positions the outposts take
up, and get away from here without rousing an alarm, we ought to be able
to hide up in some vineyard."

Lying down on the ground, as if tired out, the two watched eagerly, and
carefully noted the position of the Cossacks. Riding some three hundred
yards from their comrades, each of these wiry horsemen leapt from his
pony, removed the bit and slipped it under its jaw, and left it there
with the reins on the neck, so that in a few moments it could be
replaced. Girths were then loosened, and while the animal cropped the
grass its watchful master trudged backwards and forwards, lance in hand,
and with his face always turned towards the distant camp.

"Sebastopol lies over there," said Phil, nodding in the direction they
had come, "and we must make a bolt for it some other way. The outposts
are certain to be more vigilant behind us. Look at that fellow over
there on our right. I have had my eye on him these last two days; he is
evidently lazy and careless of his duties, especially now that no
Cossack officer is with the horsemen guarding us."

Tony glanced in the direction indicated, and noted that the man Phil had
called his attention to was standing by his pony's side, with one elbow
resting on the saddle, and his head on his hand, as if already asleep.

"Yes, that's the beggar for us, Phil," he whispered. "If we crawl over
there we ought to be able to slip by him unawares. To-night will be
fairly light--just sufficient for us to spot him at twenty yards,--and
once we know where he is, it won't be much of