our minds about making off by sea, we might
then be able to pass out through the fortifications, without
question. Of course, they would be vigilant for a short time after
we were missing; but I suppose that, at ordinary times, the country
people would go in and out unquestioned, just as in any other town
for, with no enemy nearer than Portugal, there could be no occasion
whatever for watchfulness."

Terence and his companion had seen nothing of their friends on
parole, as these, they found, although lodged in prison for their
own convenience, were not permitted to have any communication with
the other prisoners. Ten days after they arrived at Bayonne, the
warder, who had, since he first spoke to them, said nothing beyond
the usual salutations, remarked carelessly:

"The soldiers who came down with you took up the prison duties last
night. My cousin told me to say that you will know him, and four or
five of his comrades of the 72nd of the line, all of whom are
thoroughly in agreement with him, by their saying as you pass them:

"'The morning is fair, Colonel.'

"To any of them you can speak, when you find an opportunity of
doing so, unobserved."

"Thank you; but will it not be safer for them were you to carry my
messages?"

"No; I cannot do that," the warder said. "I think that it is quite
right that my cousin, and his comrades, should do anything in their
power to aid those who stood by them when attacked; but I wish to
know nothing about it. It must be between you and them, for I must
be able to swear that I had no hand in the matter, and that I
locked you up safely, at night."

"You are quite right, Jean. It is much the best plan that it should
be so. I certainly should not, myself, like to know that in making
my escape I might endanger the life of one who had acted simply
from kindness of heart; and trust that no suspicion, whatever, will
fall upon you. I thank you most heartily for having brought me the
message from your cousin, and for the goodwill that you have shown
us."

When Terence and Ryan went out as usual, after breakfast, all the
sentries they passed saluted, as if to one of their own officers.
They of course returned the salute, and made a cheery remark to
each, such as "Rather a change, this, from our work up in the
hills, lad," to which each gave some short and respectful answer,
three of them prefacing it with the words: "The morning is fair,
mon Colonel ".

Two of these had the number o