"We didn't call him that, but he was a colored boy. If he could learn to read, I am sure you could."
"It's no use, chile. I'm too old now."
Much as he liked Frank, it was irksome to Ernest to remain all day in the cave. It was imprisonment under pleasant circumstances, but still imprisonment.
They got through the forenoon somehow, taking dinner at twelve o'clock.
About two o'clock Frank complained of being sleepy.
"You won't mind if I go to sleep for an hour, Ernest?" he said.
"Oh, no," answered Ernest. "I can read, you know."
Since his exploration of the day before, Ernest had been longing to visit once more the same portion of the cave. But he wanted to go alone. He had a hope that through the aperture in the roof he might effect his escape. It would not do to have Frank with him, as this would interfere with his plan. Now the longed-for opportunity was almost at hand.
He took a volume from the book-shelf, and sitting down beside the bed began to read. But his mind was not on the book, though at another time he would have enjoyed it. He watched Frank, and in less than fifteen minutes had the satisfaction of seeing that he was fast asleep.
Then he left the room, Juba being occupied in the kitchen. He secured his hat, as he would need it in case he effected his escape.