“Yes; that’s a retired spot,” panted Andrew. “Here, let’s go on.”
“Can’t, sir, and I darn’t. It’s a jewel, aren’t it?”
“Yes, a duel.”
“Well, I’m not going to be flogged or shot for the sake of a guinea, young gentlemen, and I won’t. But if you two makes a roosh by while I go into my sentry-box, it aren’t no fault o’ mine.”
He turned from them, marched to his little upright box, and entered it, while before he could turn the two lads were dashing through the gate, and directly after were beneath the trees.
It was rapidly growing lighter now; but the boys saw nothing of the lovely pearly dawn and the soft wreaths of mist which floated over the water. The birds were beginning to chirp and whistle, and as they ran on blackbird after blackbird started from the low shrubs, uttering the chinking alarm note, and flew onward like a velvet streak on the soft morning glow.
In a minute or so they had reached the water-side, and stopped to listen; but they could hear nothing but the gabbling and quacking of the water-fowl.
“Too late—too late!” groaned Frank. “Which way shall we go?”
“Left,” said Andrew shortly. “Sure to go farther away.”
They started again, running now on the grass, and as they went on step for step: