Jerry and I were to stay in the smoke-house until it was time to begin work in behalf of Darius and Bill, while the captain and my father were to set out as soon as it was sufficiently dark to screen them from view of the curious ones. Jim and his friends started without delay, welcoming any change after being shut in from the open air so long, and when they were gone the captain announced that he would bring the rope to the jail shortly before ten o'clock. "I ain't sayin' but that you two lads could work the thing as well without me; but I'm achin' to have a hand in settin' them two old shell-backs free. You'll find that I won't be in the way, even if I don't do any good." It was a big relief to know that we were to have his assistance, and I so gave him to understand. After father had been made as comfortable as was possible under the circumstances, we lounged around waiting for the night to come; but never saying another word concerning what we hoped to do. I for one was too nervous regarding the possible outcome to care about holding converse even with friends, for there was in my mind a very vivid realization of what would be the result in case we failed while trying to get the sailors from the roof of the "stone house," or if they were discovered when getting through the scuttle. It seemed very much like death for all hands concerned if the slightest slip was made, and when a fellow believes he stands near a violent end he is not given to speech. The moments dragged so heavily that it seemed to me the night would never come. Once during this painful time of waiting Jerry spoke of the possibility that Jim and his friends might lose their way, or be taken in charge as suspicious persons; but I could not arouse myself to feel any anxiety concerning them. My thoughts were with those two old sailors in jail, and the part which the British sentries might play while we were trying to effect their release. Finally, after it was as if we had spent a full day in the smoke-house, the sun went down, and it was yet quite light when Captain Hanaford announced that he and my father might safely make the start. "We've got to steer a roundabout course," he said, "an' I reckon it'll be plain sailin' from now till dark. Stay where you are, lads, an' don't so much as poke your nose out till half-after-nine." "How shall we be able to tell the time?" I asked, rather for the sake of saying something, than because I wanted information. "You will hear the sentinels at the encampment often enough to give you a fair idee. Get there as near as possible to the hour set, an' you'll find me close at hand." Then he went out, my father leaning heavily on his arm, and Jerry and I faced each other in the gloom, heeding not the fact that we had had nothing to eat during nearly eight and forty hours, save the chips of ham and the unsavory mess prepared by Jim; thinking only of what we were to do, and the many chances against success.