“Stop!” said the sentry huskily; “I thought I heard a stone roll down from up yonder a few minutes ago.”
“They are there, then,” cried the sergeant, “safe enough. Now, then,” he shouted; “the game’s up, my lads. Give in. No stones, or I’ll give orders to fire. Ready, there; present!”
There was a dead silence.
“Nobody could get over the cliff here,” growled one of the men. “Monkeys might, perhaps.”
“Silence!” cried the sergeant. “They must be there. Now, then, will you come down, or are we to pick you off?”
“Hush! What’s that?”
The unmistakable rattling of stones and a scrambling sound as if someone had slipped.
“Hah! that’s good enough. Now, then, is it surrender?”
Silence again, and the darkness in front blacker than ever.
“You will have it, then,” cried the sergeant. “One and four, a dozen paces right and left.”