It hit Umslopogaas upon the head, luckily not upon the
armour shirt. Had it done so the clink would have betrayed us.
Luckily, too, the shirt was browned and not bright steel, which
would certainly have been detected. Apparently satisfied that
there was nothing wrong, he then gave over his investigations
and contented himself with leaning on his spear and standing
gazing idly at the tuft. For at least three minutes did he stand
thus, plunged apparently in a gentle reverie, and there we lay
in the last extremity of anxiety, expecting every moment that
we should be discovered or that some untoward accident would
happen. I could hear Alphonse's teeth going like anything on
the oiled rag, and turning my head round made an awful face at
him. But I am bound to state that my own heart was at much the
same game as the Frenchman's castanets, while the perspiration
was pouring from my body, causing the wash-leather-lined shirt
to stick to me unpleasantly, and altogether I was in the pitiable
state known by schoolboys as a 'blue fright'.
At last the ordeal came to an end. The sentry glanced at the
east, and appeared to note with satisfaction that his period
of duty was coming to an end -- as indeed it was, once and for
all -- for he rubbed his hands and began to walk again briskly
to warm himself.
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