Then, though I was nigh despairing, I affected
cheerfulness, said that we had all been working too hard, and
declared for a couple of nights' holiday.
I did not blame or expostulate, and the wisdom of my course was
vindicated on the third night, when, without a word being said, the
bosun and Runnles took up their tools and set to work again. I
learned afterwards that Runnles had employed himself during the two
days in quietly encouraging the others, and I think it was the
persistence of the little man that shamed them into perseverance.
Night by night for three weeks we toiled on, and then were
bountifully rewarded. We had scraped away the cement between the
stone we had selected and those around it, and by prying it with
our chisel and one or two other tools we had now procured, we
gradually forced it inwards and at length lifted it out and laid it
on the floor. It was the middle of the night, but all the men were
awake, and in the excitement of the occasion the bosun uttered a
shout of triumph, cursing himself immediately afterwards for his
folly. The sentry above stopped, and by and by a soldier came into
the room below and up the ladder and demanded what was the matter.
Luckily I had the presence of mind (and by this time sufficiency of
French) to make answer pat.
"'Tis the big man in a nightmare," I said with a laugh, "dreaming
he heads a boarding party."
"Mad dream!" says the Frenchman with a chuckle, and went down again
without entering the room.
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