The action was beautifully timed, for the sentry was just opposite them and within a few paces, and halted to see what would happen.
Phil awoke suddenly, sat up, and shivered. Then he felt for the blanket as if expecting to find it over his knees, but failing to hit upon it he looked at his sleeping comrade, and instantly, and with an exclamation of wrath, seized the blanket and dragged it away.
“Here, what are yer up to?” growled Tony hoarsely, sitting up and grabbing at the blanket. “Want it all yerself, yer greedy beggar? Let go, will yer?” They struggled together, while their anger apparently rose till they were on the point of blows.
“Whose blanket is it then?” cried Phil angrily. “It’s mine, and I mean to have it. There’s yours; you’re lying on it. Stick to it, and I’ll stick to mine; but not here. I’ve had enough of you. Every night it’s the same. I’m getting worn out for want of sleep.”
“Hurrah! here’s them two bosom friends a-fighting,” laughed a linesman who formed one of the number round the fire. “Have it out, boys. We’re getting stale for want of a little fun, and now’s just the time for a fight.”
Phil and Tony took no notice of this encouragement, but, tearing the blanket angrily from his friend, Phil trudged away with it to the other end of the sleeping line, leaving the sentry, who had watched the whole scene, doubled up with laughter, which was loudly echoed by the men sitting round the fire.
“Stop that noise,” came a harsh voice at this moment from the tent occupied by the officer in charge of the party; and instantly the sentry commenced to tramp his beat, while the prisoners rose and went to their hard and uncomfortable couches.
Phil chose a spot between two sleeping figures on the right, and, throwing himself down, apparently fell into a deep sleep. But part of his face was uncovered, and his eyes were fixed in the direction of the sentry, whose figure was now indistinguishable in the darkness. A weary hour and a half dragged by, and then he prepared to make the attempt. Leaving his blanket, he crept on all-fours through the grass, and within five minutes was safely through the sentries, where, having put a sufficient distance between them and himself he sat down and indulged in a whinny—a curious collection of sounds which every school-boy is an adept at, having, no doubt, times out of number, tried the nerves of some irascible master by repeating them from the remote and unobserved depths of his class-room, together with cat-calls and other pleasantries. Half an hour later Phil and Tony had met, and were crawling away towards the Cossack outposts. Stealing through the long grass, and avoiding stones and small patches of corn which were spread thereabouts, they were soon near the post occupied by the horsemen.
“We’ll get alongside that wall,” whispered Phil, pulling Tony’s sleeve in the direction he meant. “It is not a long one, and by crawling to the end and squeezing against it, we ought to be able to see our gentleman without ourselves being observed.”
Accordingly they crept to the wall, which surrounded a potato field, and advancing cautiously were soon at the corner, where, lying side by side, they searched the darkness for the Cossack horseman.