In the dark, amidst the gloomy silence of the ravine, resounded the gentle crackling of twigs; the sound came floating along from the place where the red cluster of the embers of the fire sparkled on the ground like some monstrous and maliciously-mirthful eye.
The moon arose.
Her transparent radiance filled the ravine with a mist-like gloom; the shadows fell on every side, making the forest all the denser, and the silence therein more complete and more austere The white stems of the birches, silvered over by the moon, stood out like wax-candles against the darker ground of the oaks, elms, and brushwood.
The chums walked along the bottom of the ravine in silence. It was hard going; sometimes their feet stumbled, sometimes they sank deep in the mire. Hopeful frequently panted, and a whistling, wheezing, rattling sound came from his breast, just as if a lot of large clocks that had not been cleaned for a long time were stowed away there. Jig-Leg went in front, the shadow of his lofty and erect figure fell upon Hopeful.
"Look now!" said he, petulantly and sulkily; "where are we going? What are we after? Eh?"
Hopeful groaned, and was silent.
"The night is now shorter than a sparrow's beak, by daylight we shall come to the village, and how shall we do? It is just as if we were gentlemen at large taking a stroll."
"I feel very bad, brother," said Hopeful quietly.
"Very bad!" exclaimed Jig-Leg ironically; "there you are, of course! How so?"
"I have great difficulty in breathing," replied the sick thief.