t before goin' so far that retreat will
be impossible."
"I must speak with my father once more," Jacob said, in a tone so piteous
that I did not have the heart to make any protest.
"Then God go with you," the old soldier said, solemnly, and in a twinkling
my comrade had slipped out of the cave, being lost to our view almost
immediately amid the foliage near at hand.
When we were thus left alone a silence fell upon us. Because of the
forebodings in my heart I was not inclined for conversation, and I dare
venture to say the sergeant held his peace for much the same reason.
During half an hour, perhaps, we listened intently, fearing each instant
lest we hear those sounds which would betoken the capture of Jacob, and
then did it seem probable he had succeeded in the venture, at least so far
as gaining the village was concerned.
Regarding him I had no further anxiety, and, without being aware that
slumber was weighing heavily upon my eyelids, I fell asleep.
I could not have been unconscious many moments, for it seemed as if my
eyes had but just closed, when I was aroused by the pressure of Sergeant
Corney's hand upon my arm, and as I would have sprung up he forced me
down, whispering:
"The savages are comin' this way, an' it looks to me mightily as if they
counted on stoppin' hereabouts."
Involuntarily I parted the vines at the mouth of the cave, for I had been
lying with my head close upon them, and gazed down the side of the small
hill, where it was possible to see, even despite the gloom of the night,
no less than ten forms coming up the incline as if following a trail.
"They have taken Jacob, an' he has told them where we are," I said on the
impulse of the moment, not meaning to cast reproach upon the lad, but
knowing what fiendish means those wretches employed in order to extort
information.
"We would have heard the noise of a squabble if he had been captured, an'
I have stood watch ever since he left," Sergeant Corney said, decidedly.
"Can they be followin' our trail in the darkness?" I cried, and my
companion replied, grimly, drawing his rifle nearer to him:
"It makes no difference to us, lad, why or how they are comin'. The
question is whether, in case they find this place, we shall fight to the
death or submit without resistance."
It was a question I could not answer. I knew full well that we could not
hope to hold the cave any considerable length of time, and that if, during
the fight, w
|