“Look ye here,” cried Smithers; “do you want me to have an accident?”
“No, no; I want you to let me give you many dollars. You must let me go before your officers come.”
“Nothing of the kind, sir. You must talk to them when they come. You are my prisoner, so just lie still.”
As the sentry was speaking the notes of a bugle were ringing out upon the silent night. Hurrying feet could be heard, and it was evident that the night alarm had set the occupants of the cantonments buzzing out like the bees of a hive.
“They don’t know which sentry it was,” thought Smithers, and he was raising his piece to fire and bring the relief to his side, when it struck him that he should be leaving himself defenceless if his prisoner should make a dash to escape.
“Second thoughts is best, says the missus,” he muttered, and taking the revolver from his pocket, he fired it in the air, and after a short interval fired again.
“That’s done it,” he said to himself.—“Hullo! what’s the matter with you?” For his prisoner was rocking himself to and fro as if in pain, and grinding his teeth.
Directly after there was the light of a lantern showing through the trees, shouts were heard and answered by the sentry, and a strong party of the men, led by Captain Down and Archie, surrounded them.
“What’s wrong, Smithers?” cried the Captain eagerly.
“Took a prisoner, sir.”