Then it was that young Beman breathed loudly as if wrapped in profound slumber, and tossed about restlessly, all the while pressing against Master White.
Isaac did not understand the purpose of such maneuver, but he was content with knowing that his comrade had at last consented to make an effort toward escape.
More than once Master White partially awakened, and grumbled because of Nathan’s restlessness; but at the same moment he unconsciously moved aside slightly, and each time he did this the prisoners were so much nearer liberty.
Then came the time when Nathan whispered:
“He has at last rolled off the saplings, and I can crawl away without disturbing him. Are you ready to follow?”
“Yes. Can’t you get the muskets? Two 216 are near our feet, and the other is by the side of Wentworth.”
“It is enough if we give them the slip.”
“If we get possession of the muskets they cannot send a bullet after us in case one awakens before we are well off.”
“I’ll try it,” Nathan replied as he began wriggling his body out from under the saplings, not daring to move in the direction of where Master White lay.
Isaac, literally trembling with excitement, followed his example, and it seemed to him as if half an hour had been consumed in the task, when really no more than five minutes were thus spent before the boys were on their feet and the men apparently still wrapped in slumber.