fore the midshipman could recover from his surprise, he felt himself
run forward by the two hands which had been dropped on his shoulders,
thrust through the door, the farmer whispering savagely, "Work, or I'll
break your neck;" and giving him a fierce push and a kick, which drove
him along a passage, where on his left was the open doorway into the
dimly lit cellar.

So great was the impetus given, that but for a desperate effort to keep
his feet, and a bound or two, the lad would have gone down upon his
face.

As it was, the actual first leap took him level with the door of the
cellar, the second right on to a flight of steps beyond in the darkness,
and as he stood panting there, he realised the meaning of the old
smuggler's mistake; for he had forgotten that he was roughly dressed as
a sailor boy, and had a red worsted tasselled cap, well drawn-down over
his besmirched face.

As Archy stood there in the darkness, at the foot of the stair which he
knew must lead up into the house, he looked back to see a man come out
of the cellar, his figure just dimly seen by the light from within and
below, and over the man's shoulders were swung a couple of kegs.

Archy held his breath, and felt that in all probability the farmer had
contented himself with driving him in to work, for he made no further
movement, and the coming out of this man, and another who followed
directly, completely reassured him. It was evident, too, that they did
not know of his presence, and with his heart beating with hopes of
escape, as he more and more understood that he had been taken for one of
the boys of the gang, he backed softly up the steps, more and more into
the darkness, till further progress was stayed by a door.

Here he stopped, panting, and holding his hand upon his throbbing heart.
Then feeling that he would be seen directly if a lanthorn were brought
into the passage, he pressed the lock, it yielded, and he stepped softly
up on to a stone floor.

Here all was blacker than before, but it was a haven of refuge, and he
passed in and softly closed the door behind him, to stand listening.

All was still as death, and he began to ask himself what he should do
next. He dared not stay where he was, for if the smugglers were so much
at home at the Hoze that they could come like this by night, the farmer
or some one else might at any moment come up those steps with a light,
and then discovery was certain.

But what to do? A closet--a r