Prisoners of Chance

"Pah! your doughty Frenchman appears overly anxious to be killed," began Cairnes, casting an eager glance toward the provisions dropped upon the ground. "To my mind we had better break our fast before commencing such labor. It may happen we shall have no other chance to eat, and it would go hard against my nature to waste that pickled meat on naked savages. Ecod! it would try Job himself to stand by helpless, watching a clouted heathen gorge himself on what should be lying comfortable in our own stomachs. What say ye, Master Benteen?"

"That our first effort be with the stones," I returned with decision. "After that, we can partake of food. The latter can be made ready while we work, if Madame will spread it here at the mouth of the cave--a bit farther back would prove better, under the protection of that slab of rock."

Rejoicing at thus inducing our fair companion to seek safety under shelter, the three of us fell to work with energy. Under the direction of De Noyan, the scattered bowlders were rolled up the steep and piled in a solid wall, reaching nearly waist high, completely circling the open front of the cave, its centre somewhat advanced from the stone slab, with either flank resting solidly against the face of the cliff. It did me good to listen while De Noyan issued energetic orders, swearing at us ardently in army French as if we were of his own squadron of chasseurs.

It required the greater part of an hour to get our rude rock rampart in such condition as to satisfy the military taste of the Chevalier even measurably, and during that time we toiled as men must when their lives are soon to depend upon the result of their labor.

"Saprista!" he commented at last, wiping his streaming brow, and gazing about him critically. "It will answer fairly well, I think, although another row might strengthen the curves. Still, 'tis not likely we shall be called upon to battle against gun or pike, and if too high the stones might interfere with proper thrust of the sword. So let us lunch. Egad! the sight of that hungry preacher haunts me every time I turn around; besides, whatever resting-spell we get ere the ball opens will serve to steady our nerves for the onset. Have you spread forth a rare feast for our comrades, Eloise?"

She stood within the shadow, leaning lightly against the great stone, smiling at us.

"All I have awaits your pleasure, gentlemen," she returned bravely, "and I trust you may consider it a pleasant duty to do full justice to my skill."