close at hand cropping the grass
contentedly, its loud puff of breath with which it blew away insects
upon the grass sounding regular in its intervals.

It was restful lying there, but Nic's faintness increased, and he was
glad to pick a few leaves and blades of grass to chew and keep down the
famished feeling which troubled him. But that calm night-time was
glorious for thought, and before long he had determined that, come what
might, he would wait for another hour or two and ride back to the
Wattles and set Leather free.

For he knew whereabouts the convict was imprisoned. The man who
attended to Sorrel had said it was behind the house. Then what could be
easier than to ride round, and, close up, find which was the big shed,
and give Leather a signal; and then, with one working outside, the other
in, it would be easy enough. Why, if he could not get the wooden bar
away with which these big sheds were mostly fastened, he could guide
Sorrel alongside, stand on the saddle, and remove some of the bark or
shingle roofing.

Nic forgot hunger, misery, and despair in the glow of exultation which
came over him, and he felt contempt for his readiness to give up and
think that all was over.

"More ways of killing a cat than hanging it," he said, with a little
laugh, and lying upon his back in a thoroughly restful position he set
himself to watch the stars, till all at once they turned blank, and he
leaped to his feet in alarm and went to pat his horse.

"That won't do," he muttered. "Done up, I suppose, and it was the lying
on my back and leaving off thinking. But I couldn't have slept for many
minutes."

For the matter of that the time might have been two or three hours, for
aught he could have told; but as it was he had not been asleep a minute
when he sprang back into wakefulness, and, determined now not to run any
more risks, he stopped with his horse, resting against its flank and
thinking of what a great solitary place he was in, and how strange it
seemed for that vast country to have so few inhabitants.

His aim was to wait until everybody would be asleep at the Wattles, and
then ride softly up, when he felt that there would be light enough for
his purpose, which ought not to take long.

The time glided away slowly, but at last he felt that he might start,
and after seeing that the bridle was all right he proceeded to tighten
the girths. But Sorrel had been pretty busy over that rich grass, and
Nic found