ed,
but he lay perfectly still, with his teeth still aching violently, till
all at once he felt Punch's hands busy about him, and he was jerked over
upon his face.

Then he felt that the boy had raised himself up a little as if to take
an observation of their surroundings before busying himself with the
straps that bound his numbed wrists.

"Lie still," was whispered, "don't flinch; but I have got my knife out,
and I am going to shove it under the strap. Don't holloa if it hurts."

Pen set his aching teeth hard, and the next minute he felt the point of
the long Spanish clasp-knife which his comrade carried being thrust
beneath one of the straps.

"He will cut me," thought Pen, for he knew that the pressure of the
strap had made his flesh swell so that the leather was half-bedded in
his arm; but setting his teeth harder--the pain he felt there was more
intense--while, when the knife-blade was being forced under the strap he
only suffered a dull sensation, and then grew conscious that as the
knife was being thrust beneath the strap it steadily divided the bond,
so that directly after there was a dull sound and the blade had forced
its way so thoroughly that the severed portions fell apart; sensation
was so much dulled in the numbed limbs that he was hardly conscious of
what had been done, but he knew that one extremely tight ligature had
ceased its duty, though he could hardly grasp the idea that one of his
bonds was cut.

Then a peculiar throbbing sensation came on, so painful that it diverted
the lad's attention from the continuation of Punch's task, and before he
could thoroughly grasp it Pen found that the sharp blade had been thrust
under another strap, dividing it so that the leather fell apart, and he
was free.

But upon his making an effort to put this to the proof it seemed as if
his arms were like two senseless pieces of wood; but only for a few
minutes, till they began to prove themselves limbs which were bearers of
the most intense agony.

_Click_! went Punch's closing knife-blade; and then he whispered,
"That's done it! Now, when you are ready, lead off right between those
sleeping chaps. Creep, you know, in case the sentry looks round."

"A minute first," whispered Pen; "my arms are like lead."

"So's mine. I say, don't they ache?"

Pen made no reply, but lay breathing hard for a time; and then, raising
his head a little so as to make sure of the safest direction to take, he
turned towards h