Peter had risen to his feet.
"Merely this. I claim the privilege of every working man, that of giving leave. I am not strong, and I dread the long journey Mr. St. Clair and his little band are to take."
"But," said the other, "you came in such a questionable shape, and we were here to watch for stragglers, not of course thinking for a moment, Mr. Peter, that your French window would be opened, and that you yourself would attempt to take French leave.
"Now you really must get back to your bedroom, guv'nor, and see Mr. St. Clair in the morning. My mates will do sentry-go at your window, and I shall be by your door in case you need anything. It is a mere matter of form, Mr. Peter, but of course we have to obey orders. Got ere a drop of brandy in your flask?"
Peter quickly produced quite a large bottle. He drank heavily himself first, and then passed it round.
But the men took but little, and Mr. Peter, half-intoxicated, allowed himself to be conducted to bed.
When these sentries gave in their report next morning to Roland, Mr. Peter did not rise a deal in the young fellow's estimation.
"It only proves one thing," he said to Dick. "If Peter is so anxious to give us the slip, we must watch him well until we are far on the road towards the cannibals' land."
"That's so," returned Dick Temple.
Not a word was said to Peter regarding his attempted flight when he sat down to breakfast with the boys, and naturally enough he believed it had not been reported. Indeed he had some hazy remembrance of having offered the sentries a bribe to keep dark.