Prisoners of Chance eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 399 pages of information about Prisoners of Chance.

Prisoners of Chance eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 399 pages of information about Prisoners of Chance.

I looked at her attentively, noting how heavy her eyes were from weariness.

“You are too tired to remain on guard, Eloise,” I said, forgetting I should not use that name, “or I might bid you watch here, and, if any misfortune befall me, call the others.  Besides, if there are enemies at hand there is no knowing from what direction they may chance upon us.  However, all we have observed were probably old marks, or made by roving beasts, and I shall soon return to fling myself on the ground, seeking sleep also.  So go and rest those weary eyes, while I scout to satisfy myself.  It is only the doubt of a suspicious man.”

“I shall not sleep until your safe return,” she replied firmly.  “You shall not go forth thus without one to pray for your safe return.  I beg you, exercise care.”

“Have no fear, Madame, I am no reckless hot-head at such work, and shall continue to guard my life while it remains of value to you and yours.  Try to rest at ease, for I will soon return, with a laugh at my foolish suspicions.”

I forced the boat into the swollen stream, and, using one oar as a paddle, silently and swiftly propelled it directly across.  Discovering a spot seemingly fit for travel, I pushed the prow through the long marsh grass, and stepped ashore.  She still stood in the tree shadow of the opposite bank, and waving a hand in reassurance, I drew forth my long rifle from beneath the seat.  Advancing silently, I pressed forward into the thick bed of cane, thinking more of Eloise de Noyan than of the task before me.  It proved a hard passage, so extremely difficult as to call back my mind from foolish day-dreams to save myself an ugly fall, for the grass under-foot was matted and tangled, interspersed with marshy pools of brackish water, amid which innumerable projecting roots spread snares for the feet.  The sun, now well advanced, gave me the points of the compass, and, holding the rifle-stock before my face, I cleared a path through the dense growth, and emerged from the low marsh land upon smooth turf, where some brush found foothold, yet not so thickly as to impede the walking.

I discovered myself near the bottom of a steep bank, which, curving with the line of the shore, extended forward for probably fifty feet, crowned along its ridge with numerous stunted trees.  Trusting thus to obtain a firmer foothold and more extended view, I breasted the steep ascent and found the summit a narrow plateau, only a few yards in width, with a still more extensive morass upon the opposite side, which stretched away some distance in a desolate sea of cane and drooping grass.  Fortunately it proved easy travelling along the ridge, which appeared of stone formation, probably having a terminus at the big rock, toward which I proposed extending my investigation.

I moved forward slowly and with caution, not because I expected to meet enemies in this lonely spot, but rather from an instinct of long frontier training.  I had advanced possibly a hundred yards, when I approached a small clump of stunted evergreens, so closely woven together I could not wedge a passage between.  Rounding their outer edge, my footsteps noiseless on ground thickly strewn with their soft needles, I came to a sudden halt within five paces of a man.

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Prisoners of Chance from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.