“I’m ready,” said Nip, springing up; “but tell me this: when will you meet me again?”
“Perhaps never,” said the convict.
“Then I shall come hunting for you every day till I find the way down into the gorge.”
“And bring the government people on my track?”
“No, I won’t do that,” said Nic; “but I will find you out, and I can now that I know where you are.”
“I doubt it, boy. The gorge is enormous, and I am the only man who knows the way down.”
“Pooh! The blacks would know. Bungarolo would show me now he knows I have seen you.”
“The blacks do not know, Nic. I should not know if I had not discovered it two years ago by accident when trying to save the life of a sheep which had fallen. There, be content. You have seen me. Some day we may meet again. Now then, we must lose no more time.”
“Very well,” said Nic; “only mind this: I will not do anything to risk having you discovered; but I will come to you.”
“I know you will not do anything to harm me, my lad; but you are deceiving yourself, my boy. You will not come to me. Now, are you ready?”