All these things I saw without then knowing that I saw them, for I was in an agony of apprehension. But, beginning to perceive that the handcuffs were not for me, and that the military had so far got the better of the pie as to put it in the background, I collected a little more of my scattered wits.
PIP BRINGS THE CONVICT SOME FOOD.
The soldiers were out hunting for the convicts that had escaped. And as soon as Joe had mended the handcuffs, they fell in line and started again for the marshes. Joe caught an appealing look from me, and timidly asked if he and I might go along with them. The consent was given and away we went.
After a rough journey over bogs and through briars, a loud shout from the soldiers in front announced that one of the fugitives had been caught. We ran hastily up and peered into a ditch. It was my convict.
He was hustled into the handcuffs and hustled up a hill where stood a rough hut or sentry-box, and here we halted to rest.
My convict never looked at me, except once. While we were in the hut, he stood before the fire looking thoughtfully at it, or putting up his feet by turns upon the hob. Suddenly he turned to the sergeant and remarked:
"I wish to say something respecting this escape. It may prevent some persons laying under suspicion alonger me."
"You can say what you like," returned the sergeant, standing coolly looking at him with his arms folded, "but you have no call to say it here. You'll have opportunity enough to say about it, and hear about it, before it's done with, you know."
"I know, but this is another p'int, a separate matter. A man can't starve; at least I can't. I took some wittles, up at the village over yonder—where the church stands a'most out on the marshes."