, what do you say
to that?"

"That I don't want to shoot him dead, Punch."

"You don't?"

"No."

"Why, isn't he your enemy?"

"I don't know."

"Then I suppose that won't do."

"I'm afraid not, Punch."

"Then you must wait a little longer till you get promoted for bravery in
the field. You will be Captain Gray then, and then you can go to him,
and look him full in the face, and smile at him as if you felt that he
was no better than a worm, and ask him what he thinks of that."

"What! Of my captain's uniform, Punch?"

"No, I mean you smiling down at him as if he wasn't worth your notice."

"Ah, that sounds better, Punch."

"Then, you think that will do?"

"Yes."

"Then, now I will go to sleep."

"Ah, and get better, Punch."

"Oh yes, I am going to get better now."

With a sigh of satisfaction, the boy closed his eyes, utterly exhausted,
and lay breathing steadily and well, while Pen stood leaning over him
waiting till he felt sure that the boy was asleep; and then, as he laid
his hand lightly upon his patient's brow, a sense of hopefulness came
over him on feeling that he was cool and calm.

"There are moments," he thought to himself, "when it seems as if I ought
to give up as prisoners, for it is impossible to go on like this. Poor
fellow, he wants suitable food, and think how I will I don't know what I
could do to get him better food. I should be to blame if I stand by and
see him die for want of proper nourishment." And it seemed to him that
his depressing thoughts had affected his eyes, for the cabin had grown
dull and gloomy, and his despair became more deep.

"Oh, it's no use to give way," he muttered. "There must be food of some
kind to be found if I knew where to forage for it. Why not kill one of
the kids?"

He stopped short in his planning and took a step forward, to pass round
the rough heather pallet, thus bringing him out of the shadow into the
light and face to face with a girl of about seventeen or eighteen, who
was resting one hand upon the doorpost and peering in at the occupant of
the rough bed, but who now uttered a faint cry and turned to run.

CHAPTER TEN.

TALKING IN HIS SLEEP.

"No, no! Pray, pray, stop!" cried Pen, dashing out after his strange
visitor, who was making for the edge of the nearest patch of wood.

The imploring tone of his words had its effect, though the tongue was
foreign that fell upon the girl's ears, and she stopped slowly, to look
ba