Darius, if indeed he was a prisoner,
and I determined to take the chances.

I lounged across the street as if having no particular purpose in
view; walked past the end of the building twice, peering about me like
a simple, and then stepped up to the window.

One glance inside and I saw the man for whom I had been searching. He
was lying at full length on the floor, chewing tobacco most
industriously, and seated tailor-fashion beside him was Bill Jepson.

There were very many militiamen in the room; but these two old
shell-backs seemed to hold themselves aloof from the others, and I
could well understand that this exclusiveness was because of the
cowardice shown by many of the toy soldiers the day previous.

Neither Darius nor Bill seemed to be paying any attention to what was
going on around them, and I began to realize that it might not be as
simple a matter to attract their attention as I had supposed.

I did not dare do anything which would cause the sentry to be curious,
or be noticed particularly by those who were passing in either
direction, therefore the most I ventured was to drum idly on the glass
with the tips of my fingers, which was not a difficult task since the
iron bars were so far apart that I could thrust my entire arm between
them and the window-sash.

Darius was not as heedless to the surroundings as he appeared. No
sooner had I begun to tap ever so gently than he looked up, and after
one quick, meaning glance, rose leisurely to his feet, speaking softly
meanwhile to Bill.

The latter never so much as looked toward me; but the two moved here
or there as if weary with remaining long in one position, and all the
while they were approaching the window.

Then Darius leaned against the sash, with Bill facing the middle of
the room, as he talked with many gesticulations to his companion.

I noticed that the old man bent over as if weary, until his face was
very near the glass, and while Bill waved his arms as if in the midst
of a heated argument, I saw Darius' lips move.

"On the roof--to-night--bring rope--ten o'clock."

No less than three times were these words repeated, I reading them
from the motion of his lips, for as a matter of course he did not dare
to speak so loud that I could hear him.

Then I went through the same motions with _my_ lips, in order to make
certain there could be no mistake, and Darius nodded his head in token
that I had the words correctly.

Now it was my business