“You Frenchmen have throats of flint,” he growled, “but you may shout at that fellow till you die of weariness and he will not hear, for he has lost both speech and hearing. Patiño must think you safe enough. A fine fashion, I say, to leave the eyes and ears for me.”
“Ah, he hears not?” said I, comprehending.
“He is of a detachment from Fort San Mateo that came down to-night. I do not know him.”
And taking the pitcher he went out past Goddard, jostling him with an oath, and so toward the spring that was at the corner of the building. No sooner had he gone than Goddard—being sure the third guard could not see—sprang with a bound to where we were lying.
“You must get away to-night, Master Sydney,” he whispered hoarsely. “To-morrow they’ll find me out.”
“Yes, yes,” said I, starting up in excitement, “cut me loose!”
“No!—not now! The square is full of soldiers. To-night! The scuts are drinking brandy brought from the Fort, sir. Before the change of the watch, I’ll have weapons an’ help ye both. Sh——” and he moved back to his post, for the third sentinel had come to the path.
In a moment the surly fellow who had gone for water returned, and set the pitcher down between us. He found us talking with unconcern; though I felt my temples throbbing so that I feared he would discover me, and I was glad enough to raise the pitcher to my lips to conceal my excitement. De Brésac kept countenance well; and, unsuspecting, the guard returned to the task of cleaning the spots from his plates and morion.
We could now hear plainly the shouts of the soldiers as they sang and danced in the square, though for an angle in the doorway we could not see them. They were making a fine festival over their feats of butchery!