It was late in the day when we met the detachment, and dark now being near at hand, it was apparent that we would have to sleep in the woods, which, however, was no hardship for soldiers, since the nights were warm and the ground dry. When the night arrived I proposed to Chudleigh that we stop and make our beds on the turf, which was rather thick and soft at that spot. He assented in the manner of one who had made up his mind to obey me in every particular. But before lying down I had the forethought to ask from Chudleigh a guarantee that he would not walk away in the night while I was asleep. I reminded him of his pledge that he would not attempt to escape, barring a rescue. But he took exceptions with great promptness, claiming with much plausibility, I was fain to admit, that his pledge did not apply in such a case. He argued that if I lay down and went to sleep he was no longer guarded; consequently he was not a prisoner; consequently he would go away. Since he chose to stick to his position, I had no way to drive him from it, whether reasonable or unreasonable. “Then I will bind you hand and foot,” I said. He reminded me with an air of triumph that I had nothing with which to bind him, which unfortunately was true. “What am I to do?” I said as much to myself as to him. “Nothing that I can see,” he replied, “but to guard me while I sleep.” Without another word he lay down upon the turf, and in less than two minutes his snore permeated the woods. Reflecting in most unhappy fashion that if it were not for the great interests of our campaign I would much rather be his prisoner than have him mine, I sat there making fierce efforts to keep my eyelids apart. CHAPTER XVII. MY THANKS. About midnight I reached the limit of endurance. I was firm in my resolution that I would not sleep, and while still firm in it I slept. When I awoke it was a fine day. For a moment I was in a cold terror, feeling sure Chudleigh had slipped away while I slept the sleep that had overpowered me. But a calm, evenly attuned snore that glided peacefully through the arches of the woods reassured me. Chudleigh was lying on his back, sleeping. He was as heavy as a log, and I knew that he had not known a single waking moment since he lay down the night before. I dragged him about with rudeness and he opened his eyes regretfully. Presently he announced that he felt very fresh and strong, and asked me where I expected to get breakfast. He said he was sorry for me, as he knew I must be very tired and sleepy after sitting up on guard all night. I gave him no answer, but commanded him to resume the march with me. We walked on with diligence through a breakfastless country. Chudleigh, though suffering from hunger, was frequent in his expressions of sympathy for me. He said he had the utmost pity for any man who was compelled to sit up an entire night and watch prisoners; but I replied that I throve upon it, and then Chudleigh showed chagrin.