Now it was that I realized how wise Alec had been in preventing me from going directly to the farmhouse, and what would have been our fate had I carried out my purpose of attempting to embark without first making certain where the Britishers might be.
Taking it all in all our position was as disagreeable as it well could be.
From what Leon had heard we knew that the North Foreland would be rigorously searched next morning, and also that there was little opportunity of our being able to take to a boat, at least within the next four-and-twenty hours, while the chances were decidedly against our having a craft which we could call our own after the sun had risen.
The French lad, repeating again and again that he was ready to do whatsoever we might desire of him, said that his mother advised he should not linger with us many moments, lest the Britishers, suspecting him of knowing more than he admitted, might have sent some one on his trail.
Therefore it was that he seemed eager to be gone, and when he had led us to a sort of cave, and yet which was hardly more than an excavation under an overhanging rock, Alec said to him:—
“It is well that you leave us; and remember, Leon, we don’t expect to see you again until the danger is well-nigh past. With such an amount of food as you have brought, and the possibility of getting water during the hours of darkness, there is little likelihood of our suffering while we remain in hiding. Therefore go back; stay around home as you would under ordinary circumstances, and keep your eye out now and then to see if the enemy discover our boat.”
“I will return at midnight to-morrow,” Leon said, moving slowly away; and I understood that had the lad consulted his own inclination he would not have left us.
“Do not come unless it seems certain the redcoats believe we two have given them the slip. No good can be effected by your visiting us more often than is absolutely necessary.”
“But the time will drag heavily on your hands,” he suggested; and Alec replied, with a laugh:—
“It will pass a deal more swiftly than if we were confined in such a prison as the Britishers have on this point of land, and that both Dicky and I know by painful experience. Go now; keep your ears open for any information which may be of importance to our purpose. After what you have suffered, the king’s soldiers can be no friends of yours. Then, when your mother believes it is safe to venture out, come with what will be cheerful tidings.”