“Do you think our prison has been moved at all?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Because when we were first caught I distinctly remember the fresh fragrance of the grass and the resinous odor of the park trees. While now, when I take in a good sniff of the air, it seems as though all that had gone.”
“So it has.”
“Why?”
“We cannot say why unless we admit that the prison has moved; and I say again that if the prison had moved, either as a vehicle on the road or a boat on the stream, we should have felt it.”
Here Frycollin gave vent to a long groan, which might have been taken for his last had he not followed it up with several more.
“I expect Robur will soon have us brought before him.” said Phil Evans.
“I hope so.” said Uncle Prudent. “And I shall tell him—”
“What?”