lack darkness, Archy felt himself twisted up off his feet. There was a
shake, a wrench, and as he clung tightly to the man, his arms were
dragged, as it felt to him, half out of their sockets, and he was
thrown, to come down fortunately on his hands and knees.

For a few moments he felt half stunned by the shake, but recovering
himself he leaped up and began to follow the retiring footsteps which
were faintly heard.

He knew the direction, and went on with outstretched hands to find the
way, checked directly by their coming in contact with one of the great
pillars of stone.

But he felt his way round this, got to the other side, listened, made
out which way the footsteps were going, followed on, and caught his feet
against something which threw him forward on to a pile of broken stone.

He got up again, and felt his way cautiously to the right, for the
stones rose like a bank or barrier in his way, and he went many yards
without finding a way through.

Then feeling that he had taken the wrong turning, he retraced his steps
as quickly as he could, going on and on without avail and never
stopping. He was just in time to save himself from another fall as he
heard a dull bang as if a heavy door were closed, followed by a curious
rattling sound, as of large pieces of slate falling down and banging
against wood. Then came a dull echoing, which died off in whispers, and
all was perfectly still.

"The cowards!" cried Archy, as he fully realised that his gaolers had
escaped from him. "How brutal to leave a fellow shut up in a hole like
this. 'Tis horrible; and enough to drive one mad. Ugh!" he now cried,
"if I only could get out!"

He sat down upon the rough stones, feeling weak, and perspiring
profusely. It was many hours now since he had tasted food, and in his
misery and despair he felt that he should be starved to death before his
gaolers came again.

"How dare they!" he cried passionately. "A king's officer too! Oh, if
I could only be once more along with the lads, and with a chance to go
at them! I think I should be able to fight."

Then as he sat on the stones he began to cool down and grow less fierce
in his ideas. In other words, he came down from pistols and sharp-edged
cutlasses to fists, and felt such an intense longing to get at Ram, that
his fists involuntarily clenched and his fingers tingled.

"Wait a bit," he said fiercely,--"wait a bit."

"Yes, I shall have to wait a bit," he said sadly,