The minutes dragged by.  A caterpillar let itself down by a thread from the end of the bough under which I sat, in a direct line between me and the gateway.  Very slowly, while I watched him, he descended for a couple of feet, swayed a little and hung still, as if irresolute.  A butterfly, after hovering for a while over the wall’s dry coping, left it and fluttered aimlessly across the garth, vanishing at length into the open doorway of the church.

The church stood about thirty paces from my tree, and by turning my head to the angle of my right shoulder I looked straight into its porch.  It struck me that from the shadow within it, or from one of the narrow windows, a marksman could make an easy target of me.  The building had been empty over-night:  no one (it was reasonable to suppose) had entered the enclosure during Billy’s sentry-go; no one for a certainty had entered it since.  Nevertheless, the fancy that eyes might be watching me from within the church began now to worry, and within five minutes had almost worried me into leaving my post to explore.

I repressed the impulse.  I could not carry my stand of muskets with me, and to leave it unguarded would be the starkest folly.  Also I had sworn to myself to keep watch on the gateway towards the forest, and this resolution must obviously be broken if I explored the church.  I kept my seat, telling myself that, however the others had vanished, they had vanished in silence, and therefore all danger from gunshot might be ruled out of the reckoning.

I had scarcely calmed myself by these reflections when a noise at some distance up the glade fetched my musket halfway to my shoulder.  I lowered it with a short laugh of relief as our friends the hogs came trotting downhill to the gateway.

For the moment I was glad; on second thoughts, vexed.  They explained the noise and eased my immediate fear.  They brought back—­absurd as it may sound—­a sense of companionship:  for although half-wild, they showed a disposition to be sociable, and we had found that a wave of the arm sufficed to drive them off when their advances became embarrassing.  On the other hand, they would certainly distract some attention which I could very ill afford to spare.

But again I calmed myself, reflecting that if any danger lurked close at hand, these friendly nuisances might give me some clue to it by their movements.  They came trotting down to the entrance, halted and regarded me, pushing up their snouts and grunting as though uncertain of their welcome.  Apparently reassured, they charged through, as hogs will, in a disorderly mob, rubbing their lean flanks against the gateposts, each seeming to protest with squeals against the crush to which he contributed.