"If that Irish beast raises his musket I must go at him," whispered Abel, who was trembling from head to foot. "Hold up, man. She heer'd every word, and won't stir." "Silence, there. No talking!" cried the overseer. "Let the poor divils talk, sor," said the soldier. "Faix, it's bad enough to put chains on their legs; don't put anny on their tongues." "If I get you down," thought Abel, "I won't kill you, for that." "Against orders," said the overseer, good-humouredly. "Well, can you see anything stirring?" "Not yet, sor; but I hope I shall. Bedad, I'd be glad of a bit o' sport, for it's dhry work always carrying a gun about widout having a shot." "Yes; but when you do get a shot, it's at big game, Dinny." "Yis, sor, but then it's very seldom," said the sentry, with a roguish twinkle of the eye. "I can't bear this much longer, Bart," whispered Abel. "When I say _Now_! rush at them both with your hoe." "Wait till he's going to shoot, then," growled Bart. The overseer bent down, and, sheltering himself beneath the tree, placed his hands out in the sunshine, one holding a roughly rolled cigar, the other a burning-glass, with which he soon focussed the vivid white spot of heat which made the end of the cigar begin to smoke, the tiny spark being drawn into incandescence by application to the man's lips, while the pleasant odour of the burning leaf arose. "Sure, an' that's an illigant way of getting a light, sor," said the sentry. "Easy enough with such a hot sun," said the overseer, complacently. "Hot sun, sor! Sure I never carry my mushket here widout feeling as if it will go off in my hands; the barl gets nearly red-hot!" "Yah! Don't point it this way," said the overseer, smoking away coolly. "Well, can you see anything?" "Divil a thing but that noisy little omadhaun of a bird. Sure, she'd be a purty thing to have in a cage." Abel's face grew more ghastly as he gazed at Bart, who remained cool and controlled him. "Bart," whispered Abel, with the sweat rolling off his face in beads, "what shall we do?" "Wait," said the rough fellow shortly; and he hoed away, with his fetters clinking, and his eyes taking in every movement of the two men; while involuntarily Abel followed his action in every respect, as they once more drew nearer to their task-master and his guard. "There's a something yonder, sor," said the soldier at last. "Alligator!" said the overseer, lazily; and Abel's heart rose so that he seemed as if he could not breathe. "I can't see what it is, sor; but it's a something, for the little burrud kapes darting down at it and floying up again. I belayve it is one of they crockidills. Shall I shute the divil?" "How can you shoot it if you can't see it, you fool?" said the overseer. "Sure, sor, they say that every bullet has its billet, and if I let the little blue pill out of the mouth o' the mushket, faix, it's a strange thing if it don't find its way into that ugly scaly baste."