"Why not?" I asked.
"The risk is too great. Just think for a minute. First one would have to swim to the shore, and then cross the morass in the dark, as it would not be possible to escape in the daytime. It's really waste of time to mount a guard over us."
"We must set our wits to work," observed Alzura gravely.
"No, no," I cried; "Barriero's is the only way, and a very poor one it is. The swim is a trifle, but to cross the morass—"
"Why not build a bridge?" suggested Alzura.
"And use our bodies as part of the foundations," said Barriero, laughing. "If you make any more idiotic remarks, Alzura, I'll throw you into the lake."
"All right," said he. "You'll be sorry when Crawford and I escape and leave you behind."
"I've a long time to wait," replied Barriero, "so I'll pass some of it in sleep."
Alzura and I shared one of the huts between us. There was no furniture; the floor was of mud, and so were the walls, while the roof was thatched with some dried vegetable matter. The place was not exactly a palace, but it sheltered us, and for that we were thankful.
The sergeant in charge of the islet was a good-humoured fellow. Feeling sure that we could not escape, he treated us quite genially, though maintaining discipline at the same time. He often talked of the war, giving us news now and again of events which never happened.