"Well then," said Tim, "if the sentry is asleep I'll chance the rest. But you won't be in it. We came out to scout, and you must get back and tell them what we have learnt: it isn't much."
"Your father will blame me severely if I return without you," said Romaña.
"You can tell him you protested. Besides, I'll very likely be back before you. If I get away safely I'll make a round to the river, and when I get there I can go so fast that I may overtake you somewhere up the road--provided the petrol lasts out. It must be getting low; I'd forgotten that; and we've no more. After this the machine will be useless."
"Then why not leave it, señorito? It will be useless to the enemy also."
"Don't go over it all again! I mean to have the bike; that's settled. You get back. I'll allow time for you to reach the horses before I do anything. You had better start at once."
Romaña knew that further expostulation would be useless. He had had much experience of his young master's firmness. Reluctantly he took his leave, and crept back over the hill-side. Tim listened for his footsteps, and hearing nothing he felt much encouraged. If Romaña could move silently, so could he. But for assurance' sake he took off his boots and slung them round his neck by their laces.
He waited a long time. The sky was moonless, a deep indigo blue, so dark that the starlight did not enable him to read the face of his watch. It was essential he should not start upon his own hazardous adventure until Romaña was out of danger, and he had waited probably twice as long as was necessary before he ventured to move. There were no sounds from the enclosure except the occasional stamp of a horse's hoof or the rattle of a chain. Even the sentry on his right had apparently ceased to trudge his monotonous beat. The other sentry, if there was one, at the entrance to his left, had not moved. Once or twice he thought he heard slight sounds from down the path: the fact that outposts were stationed below rendered it probable that the sentry above would not consider it necessary to be on the alert. Perhaps, thought Tim with a gush of hope, there was no sentry there at all!
At last, having heard no alarm from the direction in which Romaña had gone, he decided to start. He stole cautiously along and down the hill-side until he came to one of the tall rocks that stood at the entrance. Here he paused a moment to listen. There was no sound. Creeping round the rock, at two more strides he was within the enclosure. The breeze no longer woke fitful flames from the embers of the camp fires.
It was pitch dark: otherwise he might have seen the form of a sentry dozing on a ruined buttress near the entrance. In the absence of light, the only means of finding the cycle was to steal along by the wall until he came to it. Luckily he had to pass no horses: the animals would have been more easily disturbed than the men.
He moved as quickly and quietly as possible, but his heart was in his mouth more than once as he made the round. It was perilous work, picking his way in the darkness among the sleeping men. They were placed irregularly, some close to the wall, some at a little distance from it, some actually touching it. One man murmured in his sleep as Tim passed; another, flinging out an arm with a dreamer's sudden violence, struck it against Tim's leg, and growled an imprecation. But, no doubt supposing that he had hit a comrade, he suspected nothing, and rolled over. At the blow Tim felt an impulse to shout aloud and run; but he kept a tight rein upon his nerves, and went on without further alarm.