“Oh, I have, father,” cried Perry.
“And I’m sure I have, sir,” said Cyril warmly, “only I can’t help feeling that we shall be safer in the cavern than out there in the narrow valley, where these people can shoot us down when they like.”
“Of course you feel that, my lad,” said the colonel, “but I am under the impression that they will hesitate about shooting at us. I fancy that they will strain every nerve to master us and capture all our stores, in the full belief that we are taking out of the country valuables that their traditions and the teachings of their rulers bind them to defend. If they had liked, I feel convinced that some one of us, perhaps two, would be wounded and helpless by now.—What do you say, John Manning?”
“Well, sir, I’m ’bout divided in my opinions. One time I think they must be such bad shots, they’re afraid to show it, and another I get thinking that they’ve got an idea of your being an indefatigable sort of a gentleman.”
“Well, I am, John Manning,” replied the colonel smiling; “and you know it too.”
“Course I do, sir, but that isn’t what I mean, sir: ’tain’t indefatigable; it’s a word that means something to do with armour, and the more you shoot at any one, the more you won’t hurt him.”
“Invulnerable,” said Cyril.
“That’s it, sir,” cried the old soldier, slapping his leg. “Lor’, what a fine thing it is to have been brought up a scholar.”
“You are right, Manning. I impressed them, I suppose, by my shooting, and they have evidently some idea of that kind in their ignorance. We’ll take advantage of it and start at once.—Very tired, boys?”
They were silent.