All his old interest had returned, the spirit of war entered into him, the trumpet sounded again, and the morning breeze extended the many-coloured banners.
The spot where he stood was in the rear of the main camp, and but a short distance from the unbroken forest.

Upon either hand there was an intermingled mass of stores, carts, and waggons crowded together, sacks and huge heaps of forage, on and about which scores of slaves, drivers and others, were sleeping in every possible attitude, many of them evidently still under the influence of the ale they had drunk the night before.

What struck him at once was the absence of any guard here in the rear.

The enemy might steal out from the forest behind and help himself to what he chose, or murder the sleeping men, or, passing through the stores, fall on the camp itself.

To Felix this neglect appeared inexplicable; it indicated a mental state which he could not comprehend, a state only to be described by negatives.