“No, sir. It’s in my pocket all right; I can feel it against me.”
“Then, ready. It’s of no use to wait longer. I’ll start, and you lie still and watch. If they don’t notice my moving, then you can come.”
“No, sir, we go together or we don’t go at all. I’m not going to lie still and let you be caught and knocked about perhaps.”
“There’s no time for arguing, Ned. Do as I tell you. There, I’m off.”
Ned drew his breath hard, and raised his head a little to note whether his young master’s movements were heard, but though the growth rustled and crackled a little not a savage stirred, and Jack went on rolling himself over and over, suffering pretty sharp pain from his bonds, but setting it at nought, and struggling on till well down out of sight of the rough camp.
Then he stopped and waited for Ned during what seemed to be quite an age before the man joined him, breathing laboriously, and then they lay listening, but all was still.
“Easy enough to escape, sir, if you make up your mind to it.”
“But we have not escaped yet, Ned,” whispered Jack. “We ought to have waited till it was dark. Now then, I’ll creep close to you. Try and put your hand in my pocket and take out the little knife I have there.”
It was harder to do than either of them had anticipated, and Ned suffered agony in one wrist as he strained to get at the knife with one hand, while the other was always in the way and kept it back. At last though he was successful and held it in triumph, but there was something more to do, for a closed blade was as bad as nothing.
Still they say “where there’s a will there’s a way.” Certainly there was will enough here, and by degrees Ned worked himself along so that he could hold the little clasp-knife to Jack’s lips. These parted directly, so did his firm white teeth, and closed upon the blade, while Ned drew at the handle, with the result that the blade was opened a little. Then it was drawn from between Jack’s teeth, and closed with a snap, when the work had to be gone over again.