Presently he turned round to his comrades and nodded.
"Safe," he said. "They have turned by the crossroads; the last man is out of sight."
"That's prime," said our old friend Tomaso. "Then now to dinner."
The sentry was not lost sight of—indeed, he was not the man to allow himself to be forgotten, for before the meal had been long in progress he reminded them that he had such a thing as an appetite about him by a very rough address.
"Gluttons," he said to the party generally, "do you think only of yourselves? Am I to mount guard for ever?"
They only laughed at this.
"Right, Ymeniz," said Toro; "turn and turn about is but fair. Matteo."
"Present," returned one of the men, jumping up and saluting with a stiff military action, which told that he had once served in the army.
"Relieve guard, and let Ymeniz take your place here."
Matteo picked up his musket and marched up to the rocky pass, while the late sentry joined the feast.