“That’s a true word, sir,” replied the man, “but I think they want to know too. It seems to me they’re afraid we want to take something out of their country.”
“Nonsense,” said Perry.
“Nonsense!” said Cyril sharply. “He’s right, Perry. It’s just what I told you, and—”
“Now, quick, Mr Cyril!” whispered John. “Turn towards me, as if you were going to speak, and look toward the path we came by.”
Cyril responded quickly, and saw by the light of the fire, which had just then blazed up brightly, a dark face peering at them over a great piece of rock. He even saw the flash of the fire in the watcher’s eyes, and then, as he pretended to hand something to Manning, his look was averted for a moment, and when he glanced again in the same direction, the face was gone.
Cyril responded quickly, and saw a dark face peering at them over a great piece of rock.
“Now, Master Cyril, what do you say?” whispered John Manning.
“I say it may only be curiosity,” replied Cyril, “but certainly we are being watched, and the colonel ought to know directly.”
“Hah!” ejaculated the old soldier, with a sigh of satisfaction, “this puts one in mind of old times up in the hill-country, with the niggers waiting to go at you with matchlock or knife. I didn’t think I was ever going to have the luck to see a bit of fighting again.”