After pausing a while to rest, we set off again, and tramped on until there was a hint of daybreak in the sky.  Then, being utterly weary (for none of us had enjoyed a full night’s sleep for months), we looked about for some spot where we might rest without danger.  We found ourselves between open fields, somewhat cut up by low stone dykes, but with no buildings or copses that offered even a temporary shelter.  We had perforce to continue on our way, and about half a mile farther on our eyes were gladdened by the sight of a large, low, dismantled farmhouse lying somewhat back from the road.  It appeared at first to be a total ruin, and bore the marks of fire upon its blackened walls:  but on entering we discovered one room that had some portion of a roof over it, and, better still, a quantity of straw spread about the floor.  We were gathering this up to make rough beds of it, when we perceived a trap door in the floor, and it occurred to me that if it led down to a dry cellar, such as were not uncommon in farmhouses in England, this would prove a more secure refuge than the room on a level with the road.

Lifting the trap door, I found that it was even as I hoped.  The cellar beneath was large, and dimly illuminated through a grating let into the wall just above the level of the ground.  I perceived, too, that it had a door, so that in the unlikely event of our re-entrance by the trap door being prevented, we could still escape into the open.  There was straw also in the cellar, and it did not take us many seconds to decide that here we would lay down our tired bodies and gain some sleep.  My purpose was, after resting, to go exploring alone, trusting to my knowledge of the French tongue to procure some food and also to learn something of the lie of the land, for there must assuredly be a habitation somewhere in the neighborhood.

We all descended into the cellar, closing the trap door after us, and gladly stretched our limbs upon the straw.  It did not appear necessary to keep a watch.  The farm had clearly not been inhabited for many years, and there was no reason to fear that our rest would be disturbed.  Even when the pursuit of us should be begun, it was in the highest degree unlikely that it would tend in this direction.  The road was hard after a period of dry weather, and we had left no foot tracks to betray us.  But as a precaution I went out by the cellar door, ascended a short flight of steps and made my way to the upper room again, where I spread some straw on the trap door, to hide it from any chance visitor.  Then I returned to the cellar.  Our fatigue was so great that in a few moments we were all asleep.

I was awakened by a touch on my arm.  I sat bolt upright in an instant.  Runnles was leaning over me, with his finger at his lips.  The other men were already awake, and seeing, I suppose, a look of inquiry on my face, Runnles whispered: 

“I wakened them first, ’cos they was snoring.”