“I shan’t tell tales,” said Nic good-humouredly. “But I say, do you ever think about running away?”
“Run away? What for? No use run away. Set dogs to catch you ’gain. An’ if dogs not catch um, where run to? Plantations all alike.”
“To you,” thought Nic. “Yes; where could he run to—back to Africa? What then? Only to be caught and sold again. Poor wretch! Worse off than I. There is no pleasant Devon for him to reach, as we must and will reach it some day. Yes, there are slaves far worse off than I. What can the dear old dad have thought when he found me gone? There is only one answer to that,” said Nic, with a weary sigh—“that I was drowned in the pool struggle and swept out to sea.”
The next minute Pete came into sight, and their eyes met, Nic giving the man so long and intent a look that he did not see Humpy Dee watching him, only that Pete’s face worked a little, as if he grasped the fact that his companion had some news to impart.
But they had no chance of communicating then, for Samson and Xerxes were ready to count them as they went up to their shed; the dogs looking on and trotting about busily, as if helping two black shepherds by rounding up their flock.
It was hard work to eat that night, and the evening meal seemed more than ever to resemble a mash prepared for fattening cattle such as they seemed to be.
But Nic felt that food meant strength when the time for escaping came, and he forced himself to devour his portion as if ravenously.
The night soon came there, and they were locked up once more, Nic eagerly waiting for the chance to tell all he knew.
As he lay in his bunk listening, it was evident, from the low, guarded tone in which their companions talked, that they were in ignorance of the fact that their masters were absent, and all was very still outside, till one of the men spoke out angrily. Then a bang on the door from the butt of a musket, followed by a burst of deep-toned barking, told plainly enough that proper precautions were taken, Samson’s voice coming loudly and hoarsely with an order to keep quiet and lie down before he had to shoot.
“But there’s light ahead,” thought Nic; and he waited till he thought he could communicate his news to Pete; but, to his disgust, the deep, low breathing close at hand told that he was asleep.