“But you will escape, dear,” said Mary.
“Escape!” cried Abel, excitedly.
“Steady, lad, steady. ’Member you’re ill,” growled Bart, glancing toward the nearest sentry, and then holding up the bottle as if to see how much was within.
“Yes, escape,” said Mary. “I have the boat ready. Can you come now?”
“Impossible! We should be overtaken and shot before we had gone a mile.”
“But you must escape,” said Mary. “You must get down here by night.”
“How?” said Bart, gruffly.
“You two must settle that,” said Mary, quickly. “I am only a woman; but I have found means to get here with a boat, and I can come again and again till you join me.”
“Yes,” said Abel, decidedly; “we will contrive that.”
“But is it safe, lass, where you are?”