“And so neither of you drank?”—­put in the captain, by way of a reminder.

“For that same r’ason, and one betther still, as we had nothin’ to dhrink.  Well, says Nick—­’Mike,’ says he—­’you like cap’in, and Missus, and Miss Beuly, and Miss Maud, and the babby?’ Divil burn ye, Nick,’ says I, ’why do ye ask so foolish a question?  Is it likes ye would know?  Well—­then just ask yerself if you likes yer own kith and kin, and ye’ve got yer answer.’”

“And Nick made his proposal, on getting this answer,” interrupted the captain, “which was—­”

“Here it is, on the stick.  ‘Well,’ says Nick, says he—­’run away wid Nick, and see Majjor; bring back news.  Nick cap’in friend, but cap’in don’t know it—­won’t believe’—­Fait’, I can’t tell yer honour all Nick said, in his own manner; and so, wid yer Pave, I’ll just tell it in my own way.”

“Any way, Mike, so that you do but tell it.”

“Nick’s a cr’ature!  His idee was for us two to get out of the windie, and up on the platform, and to take the bedcord, and other things, and slide down upon the ground—­and we did it!  As sure as yer honour and the sarjeant is there, we did that same, and no bones broke!  ‘Well,’ says I, ’Nick, ye’re here, sure enough, but how do you mane to get out of here?  Is it climb the palisades ye will, and be shot by a sentinel?’—­if there was one, which there wasn’t, yer honour, seeing that all had run away—­’or do ye mane to stay here,’ says I, ’and be taken a prisoner of war ag’in, in which case ye’ll be two prisoners, seem’ that ye’ve been taken wonst already, will ye Nick?’ says I. So Nick never spoke, but he held up his finger, and made a sign for me to follow, as follow I did; and we just crept through the palisade, and a mhighty phratty walk we had of it, alang the meadies, and t’rough the lanes, the rest of the way.”

“You crept through the palisades, Mike!  There is no outlet of sufficient size.”

“I admits the hole is a tight squaze, but ’twill answer.  And then it’s just as good for an inlet as it is for an outlet, seein’ that I came t’rough it this very marnin’.  Och!  Nick’s a cr’ature!  And how d’ye think that hole comes there, barring all oversights in setting up the sticks?”

“It has not been made intentionally, I should hope, O’Hearn?”

“‘Twas made by Joel, and that by just sawing off a post, and forcin’ out a pin or two, so that the palisade works like a door.  Och! it’s nately contrived, and it manes mischief.”

“This must be looked to, at once,” cried the captain; “lead the way, Mike, and show us the spot.”