"That is what I desire. We must flee by way of the pontoons."
"And our chains?"
"Have you forgotten our little Rat King?"
"You are talking nonsense again."
"Listen, Benedetto. When a million is involved, I never joke. The saw our necessary carries will cut our chains in ten minutes. And now to work. Here comes the overseer."
The convicts grasped one of the heavy logs and pretended to be working hard peeling off the rind. As Anselmo had rightly predicted, one could not see one's own hand, and no one observed Anselmo and his companion glide toward the pontoon, which was empty.
"Lie flat on the ground," Anselmo ordered, "and feel about with your hands."
Benedetto did as he was told. Suddenly he uttered a low cry as his hand came in contact with a dark object, which flitted about.
"What a noise you make," grumbled Anselmo. "You have disturbed our poor little Rat King from his work."