Leon clasped each of us by the hand, and then, as if fearing to trust himself to further speech, walked rapidly away, and we were alone in hiding; with no friends on all the North Foreland save the French lad and his mother.
By this time we were needing both food and sleep, therefore we did not at first realize how tedious might be the confinement in our narrow hiding-place.
It was, as I have said, little more than an excavation under an overhanging rock; but the opening was so small that it had the appearance of being a veritable cave, and was partially screened from view of those who might pass, by a few small shrubs. The interior was hardly more than large enough to admit of our lying at full length, and in no place could we stand upright.
All these things were noted in a general way, and it was not until after many hours had passed that we realized to the full how cramped a prison it might prove.
The shore of the lake—that is to say, such portion of the Foreland as was washed by the narrow strip of water which lay between the point and the main—was not above three hundred yards distant, and Alec proposed that we hurry down and drink our fill while it was yet dark, for after the day dawned it would not be safe to venture forth.
This we did, and having returned, made a hearty meal from the provisions Leon brought.
Before the repast was come to a close the shadows of night had been dispelled by the rising sun, and we were prisoners until darkness should screen us once more.
I proposed that, having plenty of time at our disposal, we both indulge in slumber, but to this my comrade would not listen.
It was necessary, he believed, that one of us keep constant watch, lest the enemy should come while we were unconscious, and the sound of our heavy breathing might betray the secret of the hiding-place.
He insisted that it should be his duty to stand guard, as he termed it, during the early part of the day, and held to this point so stoutly that I could do no less than take my first turn at sleeping.