"Oh, he'll be along after awhile. Perhaps, prince, after you have partaken of our simple fare and rested by our friendly fire a little time, the king may join you."
Frank managed to keep a sober face while speaking in this lofty way, but Bluff and Jerry, unable to stand it any longer, turned their backs on the couple.
Evidently the lunatic was very hungry, in spite of his possession of an "iron will." He kept turning a wistful eye toward the fire where the frightened black cook was hustling coffee and ham and eggs for his benefit. And indeed, there was such an appetizing odor in the air that several times Mr. Smithson raised his head and looked longingly over the bushes as though he wished things would move faster, so he could come into camp and get his share.
When the food was placed before him the man ate ravenously. The boys afterwards learned that he had not tasted a bite for two days, and they wondered at his having shown even as much patience as he did.
Just as Mr. Smithson had said, the escaped lunatic became drowsy as soon as he finished eating.
"Let me fix a nice cot for you here, prince. When the king arrives you shall be awakened, all right," said Frank, soothingly.
The man looked trustingly at him, so that Frank felt a little qualm of conscience over the fact that he had to deceive him.
"You are very kind, young sir. Indeed, I believe I am weary, and perhaps a nap would refresh me. If Napoleon sends out a flag of truce notify me at once," and he settled down on the warm blankets with a sigh of pleasure.
"Depend on it, such shall be done," replied Frank, turning away; for he had by this time reached the limit of his endurance, and if compelled to keep this thing up much longer must have betrayed himself by laughter.
In ten minutes he flew a handkerchief as a signal that the warden could come in.