eer and himself.
He was wakened awhile later by a touch on the shoulder nearest the door. A voice addressed him. For a moment Zaidos was unable to locate it. Then he discovered that it was coming from the partly open door. It was the young husband who had sobbed in the dark.
"Waken, friend!" said the low whisper. "Waken! Farewell! I go! There is a small packet under my pallet. I forgot it. Will you hand it quickly before the sentry turns?"
"Don't do a fool stunt like that," said Zaidos in English.
The deserter repeated, "Quickly, quickly!" and as Zaidos handed him the packet he disappeared, the night swallowing him in its blackness. Zaidos crawled to the door and, flat on the floor, put his head out the opening into the street. All was quiet. The sentry marched up and down the long block with the dragging slowness of a weary man. The mountaineer had escaped!
Somewhere a clock struck eleven booming strokes. Zaidos could not believe that it was so early, but immediately anothe
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