[Prisoners of Chance by Randall Parrish]@TWC D-Link book
Prisoners of Chance

CHAPTER VIII
9/13

Dropping the chest with good will amid the raffle littering up the floor space, we came forth together, the soldier to pick up his gun, while, mopping my face vigorously, I proceeded forth into the guard-room for the purpose of delivering up the key.
This was a task I approached with dread.

Even now some slight slip of tongue, or action, could easily ruin everything accomplished, yet I durst not omit the precaution, lest the missing key awaken suspicion and lead to immediate pursuit.

Here, again, fortune played strangely into my hands, as I discovered the officer dozing in his chair, and, stepping softly, so as not to arouse him, I gladly handed that important bit of iron over to the care of one of the guard, himself too drowsy from potations to trouble me with questioning.

Relieved of this duty, my heart filled with gratitude for all the mercies of the night, I betook myself up the ladder unmolested, and a moment later stood in comparative freedom upon the open deck.
I could scent the coming dawn in the fresh morning air the moment I arose through the hatch opening, yet there was no sign of it in the sky; indeed I felt there must be fog in the atmosphere, it rendered it so thick, although not sufficiently heavy to drip in moisture.

It required only a moment to locate all life present along the forward deck, and I became convinced few wakeful eyes remained among them at this sleepiest of all hours of the night.


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