by
main force, to the amusement of the domestics, who thought it was a
practical jest.

"Arrah! don't stare like that, but come along wid ye," said Ted, hasting
to a neighbouring thicket, into the very heart of which he penetrated
before halting.

"What be go wrong?" exclaimed Rais.

"They're after me, lad. Don't waste time spaikin'. You've got your
burnous here, haven't ye?"

"Yis!"

"Go, fetch it, an' sharp's the word."

Flaggan's tone and actions were such as to instil a spirit of prompt
unquestioning obedience into his friend, who instantly went off; and in
a few seconds, (which seemed years to Ted), returned with his burnous.

While the seaman quickly but quietly divested himself of the boar-skin,
and put on the burnous with the hood well drawn over his face, he
related to his friend the incident at the gate, without, however,
mentioning the true cause of his behaviour.

"An' wat for you go be do now?" asked Rais Ali anxiously.

"To make me escape, sure," said Ted, holding the head of his cudgel
close up to his friend's nose; "across the mountains or over the say, by
hook or crook, or through the air, escape I will somehow, even though I
should have to jump out at me mouth an' lave me body behind me, for
depind upon it that all the Turks an' Moors an' boors an' naigers in the
Pirates' Nest ain't able to take Ted Flaggan alive!"

"Unposs'ble!" exclaimed Rais decidedly.

"I manes to try, anyhow," returned Ted; "so give us your flipper, owld
boy; I've a sort o' sneakin' regard for 'ee, tho' ye haven't much to
boast of in the way o' pluck."

"Unposs'ble!" again ejaculated Rais Ali, with greater decision than
before.

"Well, good-bye to 'ee--I'm off."

"Stay. _I_ will save you."

"How?" asked Ted, pausing with some impatience.

"Stay. Hold. Stop," cried, the Moor, seizing the arm of his friend.
"You be mad. Unposs'ble I say?--no, yes, poss'ble anuf for you 'scape
without your body. But me save bof. Me knows hole in de rocks; come
take you dere,"--here the Moor became emphatic, and lowered his voice to
a whisper,--"no boddy do knows it. All dead w'at know'd it vonce. Me
was a--what you call?--pirate vonce. Hah! nebber mind, come 'long.
Queek, no time for d'liberazhun."

"Git along then, old feller," said Flaggan, thrusting his companion
through the thicket very unceremoniously. "Don't palaver so much, but
take the helm; an' wotiver ye do, clap on all sail--ivery stitch you can
carry--