It was the voice of Jim Braid.
"What is it, Jim?"
Braid came forward in the darkness. The moon was now low in the heavens. In the east, through the tree-tops, there was a steel-blue arc of light, heralding the approach of day. It was as if even the abundant vegetation of the jungle was itself awakening after sleep. When he was quite close to Harry, Braid took him by the arm.
"I have news for you," said he. "There's an uproar in the ravine. The Germans have discovered their prisoner has escaped."
"Here he is," said Harry, making a motion of the hand towards Peter Klein.
"Here! How did he get here?"
"There's no time for explanations now," said Harry.
"You're right, sir," answered Jim. "We're in danger if we stay!"
"We would be in greater danger still," said the other, "if we endeavoured to escape. After all, this is the last place they would think of searching. It would never occur to them that the prisoner had climbed up the side of the ravine."
There was the strongest common sense in this. Indeed, a few minutes later they had ample proof that Harry was perfectly right. Klein remained behind, whilst the two boys crawled back to the edge of the gorge and thence looked down into the bivouac.