"Surely we have need enough of sleep."
"Then do not hesitate to slumber, for I need little sleep, and I will see that no harm comes to you."
Frank would have questioned the man, but when he tried to do so in a manner that would not be offensive, Old Solitary suddenly became dumb, paying no heed to anything that was said.
Frank and Barney talked for a long time. They were impressed with the belief that they were in the gravest peril, and yet they could do nothing more to save themselves till the opportunity came. To a large extent, they were in the hands of fate.
Never before in all his life had Frank been utterly controlled by a feeling of utter inability to avert destruction by any effort of his own, even though his hands were free and he was armed. It seemed as if they had been doomed and were in a snare from which there could be no possible escape.
Everything must be trusted to Old Solitary, that was certain. Feeling thus, Frank flung himself down on the bed of grass, and was soon sleeping soundly.
It did not take Barney long to follow the example of his friend.
They slept for hours. When they awoke the torch had burned out, and the chilly darkness of the cave was dense around them.
"I wonder where Old Solitary is?" said Frank.
They called to him and their voices echoed hollowly along the passages.