till just before it was light.

Then day after day there had been the trumpeting sounds of the elephants
shuffling by the prison on their way to water, the regular visits of one
of their number, Peter's friend, to thrust in his trunk for a fresh
supply of bread and fruit.

The dwarfish little Malay whose task it seemed to be to drive the great
beasts to their morning bath, from which they returned muddied and
dripping, had twice over, to the recovering lad's knowledge, shouted at
and tried to drive Peter's friend from the stable door, but on the
second occasion he had been so nearly caught by the huge beast that he
was satisfied to leave him to his own devices, and Rajah, as Peter had
christened him, came and went as he pleased.

Then, after the heat of the day had passed, the head keeper, as Peter
called him, came with his followers to bring a fresh supply of their
monotonous food and water; and it was he who, at irregular times, would
come to change the sentry, peering through one of the holes to make sure
that his prisoners were safe, and then going away as silently as he had
come.

All this was discussed, as Archie grew stronger, again and again by the
two prisoners, and they came to the conclusion that they must be deeply
buried in an out-of-the-way part of the jungle from which it would be
impossible for them to escape, and that that was the reason for so
little attention being paid to their security.

"That's it, Pete," Archie had declared. "They know we can't get away,
or else there would be more regularity about our guard, and whoever is
on sentry would not disappear as soon as it is dark."

Peter's answer repeated itself with additional force on this particular
night of Archie's watch, for the lad had said, "They know 'tain't safe,
sir. It's my belief that if the sentry kept guard there one night, he
would never do it again."

"Poor Peter!" thought Archie as, refreshed by his draught of water, he
began slowly to pace the rustling floor again. "In such a silent night
as this," he mused, "one's thoughts ought to flow easily enough, and I
was hopeful that when he came back I should have hit out some better
plan for our escape; but ever since that horrible night all power of
thinking seems to have gone. Sometimes I do get fancying that the power
is coming back, but it is only for me to seem weaker again, and--Oh, I
wish I had not let him go! I am too cowardly now to be left alone,
and--"

_R-a-a-a-