with
him; but, telling himself that the boy was an enemy, he punished
himself, as soon as the lanthorn came swaying through the darkness, by
throwing himself down and turning away his head.

Ram came up and held the lanthorn over him.

"Morning. How are you?"

Archy made no reply.

"'Sleep?"

Still no answer.

"You aren't asleep. Come, look up. I've brought you four plum puffs,
and a cream-cheese mother made."

"Hang your plum duffs and cream-cheeses!" cried Archy, starting up in a
rage.

"Didn't say plum duff; said plum puffs."

"Take 'em away then. Bread and water's the proper thing for prisoners."

"Oh, I say, you wouldn't get fat on that."

"Will you let me out?"

"No."

"Then I warn you fairly. One of these days, or nights, or whatever they
are, I'll lie wait for you, and break your head with a stone, and then
get away."

Ram laughed.

"What?" cried the prisoner fiercely.

"I was only larfin'."

"What at?"

"You. Think I don't know better than that? You wouldn't be such a
coward."

"Oh, wouldn't I?"

"Not you," said Ram, sitting down quietly, and making the lid of his
basket squeak. "You know I can't help it."

"Yes, you can. You could let me out."

"Father would kill me if I did. Why, if I let you out, you'd come with
a lot o' men, and there'd be a big fight, and some of our chaps wounded
and some killed, and if we didn't whop you, our place would be all
smashed up, and father and all of 'em in prison."

"And serve 'em right!"

"Ah, but we don't think so. That's what you'd do, isn't it?"

"Of course it is."

"Well, then, I can't let you go. 'Sides, if I said I would, there's
always Jemmy Dadd, or big Tom Dunley, or father waiting outside, and
they'd be sure to nab you."

"But you might come by night and get me out."

"No," said the boy sturdily, "I couldn't."

"Then you're a beast. Get out of my sight before I half kill you!"

"Have a puff."

"Take them away, you thieving scoundrel!" cried Archy, who was half mad
with disappointment. "You come here professing to be civil, and yet you
won't help me."

"Can't."

"You can, sir."

"And you wouldn't like me if I did."

"Yes, I should, and I never could be grateful enough."

"No, you wouldn't. You'd know I was a sneak and a traitor, as you call
it, to father and all our chaps, and you'd never like me."

"Like you! I tell you I should consider you my best friend."

"Not you. I know better than that.