"Finding it hard work, are you?" I asked, crouching on the floor beside him, and the dear little fellow, with that bright smile of his, shrugging his shoulders as if it was a matter of indifference, said cheerily:
"It is not as lively here as I have known it in New Orleans, and there is but little with which to occupy one's attention; but when Saul has come back I count on going down to the river bank and having a swim, if so be his majesty's red-coated servants do not forbid such sport."
"There is no reason why you should not go now, lad. Surely I can well afford to take your place after having wandered around the country to my heart's content."
"It is not fair that you should do guard duty after having just returned from a long tramp," he replied with a bright, winning smile. "How many hours did you sleep last night?"
I confess I had not realized that I might stand in need of slumber, and would have put the lad off with an evasive reply; but he persisted with his question until I was forced to admit that since leaving the town of York to carry the Jerseyman's message, I had not closed my eyes in rest, whereupon he insisted I go to the floor below, and seek the repose which he claimed I so sorely needed.
"Saul is certain to come back within a short time," he said, "and then it will be for him to take my place here. You are to sleep now, to the end that if work of any kind be demanded of us this night, you will be in condition to perform your share of it."
There was no gainsaying a lad like Pierre Laurens; it would have been much like resisting the entreaties of a girl friend, to set one's face against that which he desired, and I meekly obeyed him, leaving in the loft the prisoner who looked fairly well contented with the situation, and the jailor who appeared to be suffering from confinement.
On the floor below Uncle 'Rasmus had already made up such a bed of blankets as was possible, he having heard the conversation in the loft. Straightway I had stretched myself out on that poor apology for a couch, my eyes were closed in slumber, and I remained hour after hour in blissful unconsciousness of the world of war and of hate around me, until I was brought back to this earth and all the disagreeable realities by the pressure of Uncle 'Rasmus's hand upon my cheek.
"What is it? What's wanted?" I cried, springing up and striving to brush the slumber from my eyes, the cobwebs of sleep being so thick in my brain that for the instant I did not realize where I was.
Then I noted with no little of apprehension that the night had come. Already was the room so dark that save for the flickering of a few pine knots in the fireplace, one could not distinguish surrounding objects, and on fully recovering my senses I asked: