“And this is a bigger one. Who is to believe your word? Get on with your work, and if you worry me again with your whining I’ll shorten your rations, and keep you on the hardest jobs about the plantation.”
“It’s of no use, Pete,” said Nic as soon as he could speak unobserved; “there is nothing to hope for here. We must escape somehow, or else die in trying.”
“That’s sense, Master Nic, all but the last part. I don’t see any fun in dying for ever so long. I’m going out to-night to find that boat, and if I do, next thing is to zave up some prog and be off. There’s one thing to do, though, ’fore we start.”
“What’s that?”
“Borrow a couple o’ guns and some powder and shot.”
“Impossible, Pete. No; I think I could manage it.”
“How, my lad? It has bothered me.”
“There are two ways. Get at the guns one day when Samson is cleaning them; or else creep to the house some hot night, risk all, and climb in by one of the windows. I think in time I shall know whereabouts they are kept.”
“Risk getting zeen and shot?”
“We must risk something, Pete,” said Nic quietly. “It is for liberty. I should leave it to the last moment, and get them when the boat was all ready; then, if I were heard there would be somewhere to make for, and once afloat we should be safe. But there, we have not found out where the boat is yet.”