e,
they won't take it into their heads to revenge my escape upon you."

"There is no fear of that," the midshipman said. "I shall be sound
asleep in the tent, and when they wake me up, and find you are gone, I
shall make a tremendous fuss, and pretend to be most indignant that you
have deserted me."

The two prisoners had eaten but little of the meals served to them that
day, putting the greater portion aside, and hiding it in the straw
which served for their beds, in order that James might take with him a
supply, for it might be three or four days before he could be taken off
by the ships' boats.

"I suppose you won't go very far tonight?" the midshipman said,
suddenly.

"No," James replied. "I shall hide somewhere along the face of the
cliff, a mile or so away. They are not likely to look for me down the
river at all; but, if they do, they will think I have gone as far as I
can away, and the nearer I am to this place, the safer."

"Look here," the midshipman said. "I am going strictly to obey orders;
but, at the same time, it is just possible that something may turn up
that you ought to know, or that might make me want to bolt. Suppose,
for instance, I heard them say that they meant to shoot us both in the
morning--it's not likely, you know; still, it's always as well to be
prepared for whatever might happen--if so, I should crawl out of camp,
and make my way along after you. And if so, I shall walk along the
edge, and sometimes give two little whistles like this; and, if you
hear me, you answer me."

"Don't be foolish, Middleton," James said seriously. "You would only
risk your life, and mine, by any nonsense of that sort. There can't be
any possible reason why you should want to go away. You have undertaken
to carry this out, knowing that you would have, perhaps, to remain a
prisoner for some time; and having undertaken it, you must keep to the
plans laid down."

"But I am going to, Captain Walsham. Still, you know, something might
turn up."

"I don't see that anything possibly could turn up," James insisted;
"but, if at any future time you do think of any mad-brained attempt of
escaping, you must take off your shoes, and you must put your foot
down, each time, as gently as if the ground were covered with nails;
for, if you were to tread upon a twig, and there were an Indian within
half a mile of you, he would hear it crack. But don't you attempt any
such folly. No good could possibly come of it, and you