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their bags and laid down their guns, and called for something to drink.

It seemed as if the work of the day was never going to be at an end, for the women roused themselves to attend once more to the men, and pipes and tobacco were got out, and bottles and mugs, and they sat down as if they had no intention of going to sleep.

Poor Harry stood apart, still crying, and Hugh went up to him and asked him what was the matter, but he only said in a whisper,—

I can't tell you now. They are wicked,
Let us try to get away. Do let

wicked men.

us try.'

'But our clothes,' said Hugh.

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'Never mind our clothes,' whispered Harry again. They will never give us those back. They are wicked thieves. Do let us try to get away.'

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'Wait till they are asleep,' said Hugh, and we will try.'

They will never go to sleep,' said Harry in a sad tone of voice. 'Hark at them now!'

The men had all begun singing a loud rough song, with every now and then a sort of shout in the middle of the music. It did not seem as if

they would ever go to sleep.

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Hugh was afraid of standing too near Harry, lest the men should see them talking and box their ears for them. So after he had said what I

have told you, he went back to his place on the turf and sat down. He did not fall off to sleep any more.

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