But Clenk was now on his guard. His comrades had bitterly
upbraided him with his self-betrayal, that indeed threatened the safety
of all. In fact, their courage was so reduced by the untoward episode
that he more than suspected they intended to flee the region, and he was
disposed to give the fact that he was left cooped up here under lock and
key no such humane interpretation as the intruder had placed upon it.
They had left him to starve, if not discovered, while they sought to
compass a safe distance. At all events, he was so broken in mind and body
that his story was more than likely to be discredited, unless their own
clumsy denials and guilty faces were in evidence to confirm its truth.
Now his garrulity had vanished; he licked his thin lips ever and anon,
and looked up over the folds of the red blanket drawn to the chin with a
bright, inscrutable eye and said nothing. His weakness was so great that
the policy of lying silent and supine, rather than exert his failing
powers, was commended by his inclination as well as his prudence.
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