Featherstone looked too long and too sharply, for the Warder observed him, and turned to see what he looked at. The old man on the road saw the motion, and, instantly dropping his hand, went on with his mending, meanwhile addressing the donkey with reproving words. The Warder looked for a moment, then turned his attention to the workers at the cairn. "Heave on that handle, you, No. 5; don't let your mate do all the work. Come, now--heave!" And the two decrepit old men "heaved," as he called turning the handle of the windlass, until their old joints cracked. "That'll do; slack away!" and they rested panting, while the rope was fixed for another grip. "Geoffrey," whispered Featherstone, with his head bent beside the stone, "look at that old fellow on the road. I am sure he made a signal to me, and stopped when he saw the Warder looking." When Geoffrey had arranged the rope he looked toward the road, and almost shouted with joy and surprise to see faithful old Reynolds, with both hands raised in recognition and a wide smile on his honest face. Fortunately the Warder was at the moment encouraging the Duke and Sydney to "heave" on the wheel. Geoffrey quickly recovered, and turned his attention to the rope. "Try and find what he wants," he whispered to Featherstone. "It is my old Reynolds. Careful!" While he whispered there was a crash on the road that made the whole group start. The harness had wholly given way and the shafts had come to the ground. The old driver was in a sad plight, and he looked helplessly at the wreck of his team. He turned wistfully to the Warder and asked him to send one of the prisoners to his aid. "Here, you, No. 16," shouted the Warder to the Duke; "lend a hand here on the road; look alive, now." The old man went toward the wall, as if nothing could surprise him, no indignity arouse a spark of resentment. He tried to hurry to win the Warder's approbation; but in doing so he stumbled in climbing the low wall, upon which he turned to the officer with a look of apology. Geoffrey took advantage of this moment to offer his services. He leaped from the cairn, and asked the Warder to let him take the place of the old man. "All right--go along. Here, you, No. 16, scramble back to your work. If you don't look out you'll lose your good-conduct marks." Mr. Sydney gave the Duke a look of sympathy and a smile of cheer as he took his place on the windlass again, and Featherstone looked down from the cairn at both his old friends with actual tears in his eyes. Meanwhile Geoffrey had gone out to Reynolds, and in bending to the shaft gave the old man's hand a grip of welcome and gratitude. Reynolds moved to the other side of the cart, and stooping out of sight of the Warder took a letter from his pocket and showed it to Geoffrey. Featherstone, from the top of the cairn, saw the movement and made a brilliant stroke. "Look out, down there!" he shouted to the old men, "my hand is caught in the bight!"