“Has a dog a nose? and can he follow a clean scent?” exclaimed the marine; “do you think, Signor Pilota, that a general ever puts his forces in an ambuscade where he can't find them himself? 'Fore God! I knew well enough where the rascals lay snoring on their knapsacks, some half an hour ago, and I would have given the oldest majority in Washington's army to have had them where a small intimation from myself could have brought them in line ready dressed for a charge. I know not how you fared, gentlemen, but, with me, the sight of twenty such vagabonds would have been a joyous spectacle; we would have tossed that Captain Borroughcliffe and his recruits on the point of our bayonets, as the devil would pitch——”
“Come, come, Manual,” said Griffith, a little angrily, “you constantly forget our situation and our errand; can you lead your men hither without discovery, before the day dawns?”
“I want but the shortest half-hour that a bad watch ever traveled over to do it in.”
“Then follow, and I will appoint a place of secret rendezvous,” rejoined Griffith; “Mr. Gray can learn our situation at the same time.”
The Pilot was seen to beckon, through the gloom of the night, for his companions to come forward; when they proceeded, with cautious steps, in quest of the desired shelter. A short search brought them in contact with a part of the ruinous walls, which spread over a large surface, and which, in places, reared their black fragments against the sky, casting a deeper obscurity across the secret recesses of the wood.
“This will do,” said Griffith, when they had skirted for some distance the outline of the crumbling fabric; “bring up your men to this point, where I will meet you, and conduct them to some more secret place, for which I shall search during your absence.”
“A perfect paradise, after the cable-tiers of the Ariel!” exclaimed Manual; “I doubt not but a good spot might be selected among these trees for a steady drill,—a thing my soul has pined after for six long months.”
“Away, away!” cried Griffith; “here is no place for idle parades; if we find shelter from discovery and capture until you shall be needed in a deadly struggle, 'twill be well.”
Manual was slowly retracing his steps to the skirts of the wood, when he suddenly turned, and asked:
“Shall I post a small picket, a mere corporal's guard, in the open ground in front, and make a chain of sentinels to our works?”