"Not moved?" "No. It couldn't be in a better place--a worse, I mean. Bother the cave! I wish you wouldn't keep on thinking about it." "Very well, I won't. Tell me about the prisoners." "Ah, that's better. The brutes! But there's nothing to tell about them. I wish they had got their deserts, but we none of us wanted to shoot them, though they did deserve it." "Oh, I don't know," said Lennox. "They're a rough lot of countrymen, and they think that everything is fair in war, I suppose. Where are they?" "Number 4 tin hut, and a fellow inside with them night and day. Then there's the sentry outside. Makes a lot of trouble for the men." Lennox was silent for a few minutes before speaking again. "I say, Bob." "Yes?" "Look at this cut on my forehead." "I'm looking. Very pretty. It's healing fast now." "Will it leave much of a scar?" "I dare say it will," said Dickenson mockingly. "Add to your beauty. But you ought to have one on the other side to match it." "I wasn't thinking about my looks," said Lennox, smiling. "Gammon! You were." "I suppose I must have been dashed against a block of stone." "Good job, too. Doctor said it acted like a safety-valve, and its bleeding kept off fever." "I suppose so. I must have been dashed against something with great force, though." "Oh, never mind that. Will you leave off thinking about that cave?" "No, I won't," said Lennox coolly. "I must think about it now; I can't help it." "Then I'm off." "Why?" "Because you were getting better, and now you are trying to make yourself worse." "Oh no, I'm not; and you are not going. Talking to you about it acts like a safety-valve, too. There, it's of no use for you to try and stop me, Bob, for if you go I shall think all the more. I've been wanting to tell you all about it for days." "But the doctor said I was not to encourage you to talk about the horror." "Well, you are not encouraging me; you are flopping on me like a wet blanket. I say, it was horrible, wasn't it?" "No," said Dickenson angrily; "but this is." Lennox was silent for a few minutes, and he lay so quiet that Dickenson leaned forward to gaze at him earnestly, "All right, Bob. I'm here, and getting awfully strong compared with what I was a week ago. I shall get up and come out to-morrow." "You won't. You're too weak yet." "Oh no, I'm not. I shall be on duty in two or three days, and as soon as I'm well enough I want you and the sergeant to come with me to have another exploration with lanterns and a rope." "There, I knew it. You're going off your head again." "Not a bit of it." "Then why can't you leave the wretched cave alone?" "Because it interests me. I mean to go down again at the end of the rope." "Bah! You're mad as a hatter. I knew you'd bring it on." "There, it's of no use. I want to tell you all about it." "If you think I'm going to stop here and listen to a long rigmarole about that dreadful hole, you're mistaken; so hold your tongue."