you, Bill?" he asked, in a low voice. "I was afraid you were
caught. I fancied I heard voices, and crept away, intending to get into
our hiding-place, when I fell down, and I suppose I must have gone to
sleep, for I remember nothing more till I heard you calling to me. Have
you brought any food?"

"Yes," said Bill; "sit up and eat as much as you can; it will do you
good, and you will soon be all to rights."

Jack did not require a second invitation, but munched away at the bread
and cheese, and dried fish and figs, with right good will, showing that
he could not have been so very ill after all. He quickly regained his
strength and spirits, and listened eagerly to what Bill had to tell him.

"Well, it's a comfort to think that we are not likely to be starved," he
observed; "and I will bless Miss Jeannette as long as I live. I wish we
could do something to show her how much obliged we are. And now, Bill,
what about the boat? Is there a chance of our getting one?"

"A very poor chance at present, I am afraid," answered Bill.
"Jeannette, however, will let us know if her father and brother can find
one to suit our purpose, or if a smuggling lugger comes into the
harbour."

"We'll have, after all, to do as I proposed, and take one without asking
the owner's leave," said Jack. "I tell you it will be perfectly fair.
The French are at war with us, and we have a right to take any of their
property we can find, whether afloat or on shore."

"That may be, but I can't get it out of my head that we shall be robbing
some poor fellow who may have to depend on his boat for supporting
himself and his family," answered Bill.

They argued the point as before, till Bill proposed that they should lie
down and go to sleep, as he felt tired after his long walk.

They allowed two days to pass, when Bill set off as agreed on to obtain
the provisions he hoped Jeannette would have brought.

She had not deceived him; there was an ample supply, and two or three
more candles.

Several more days passed by. Jeannette regularly brought them
provisions, but she left no note to tell them of any arrangements which
her father had made. They were becoming very weary of their life, for
they had nothing whatever to do--no books to read, and not even a stick
to whittle.

The weather had hitherto been fine, the cavern was warm and comfortable,
and the dry sand afforded them soft beds. They might certainly have
been very much worse off.