It was not a rat: it was a warm soft hand.
A sob escaped from Ned’s breast, and he was about to speak, but his hand was pressed firmly, and he returned the grasp, for it felt like the hand of a friend, and if it were, it meant help and perhaps escape.
Turning quickly on his side, he leaned over and touched Frank, who started awake.
“Yes,” he said loudly. “What is it?”
The hand was snatched away.
“I told you. Argus pheas— fez— fuz—” snore.
Ned shook him again sharply.
“What’s the matter?” he said, thoroughly waking up now.
“Hush! pray. Hist!” whispered Ned; and he pressed his companion’s arm, for steps were heard on the creaking bamboo floor, a light shone through between the mat hangings, a dark face appeared and a lantern was held up, so that its dim light fell upon them.
Just then a bright thought occurred to Ned.