mped his foot upon the floor.

"Was ever fellow so unlucky!" he exclaimed. "Lipscombe might have found
me out by this time; and when I do get out, I'm caught and brought back.
But never mind; if they think I'm beaten they are wrong, for I'll get
out, if only to show Sir Henry what a mean-spirited fellow he is."

He looked round his room, which was a bare old attic, with dormer
windows and casements, from which, on flinging one open, he saw that he
was far too high from the ground for a descent without a rope; but a
second glance showed him that it would be possible to climb upon the
roof, and when there he might perhaps manage to get somewhere else.

Just then he heard a window opened on the floor below, and, looking
down, he saw Adela, evidently gazing towards the moat.

For a few moments he felt too indignant to speak, for he thought Sir
Henry was behaving very ill to him; but a little reflection told him
that his old companion was not to blame, and what she might even then be
feeling very grateful to him for what he had done.

"Well, I'll give her a chance to show it," he thought; and, leaning out
a little more he said lightly, "Well, Addy, are you any the worse for
your dip?"

"Oh, Hil!" she exclaimed looking up, "are you there?"

"Yes, and locked up safely. I say, your people are behaving very badly
to me."

"Oh, Hil," cried the girl with the tears in her eyes, "I am so sorry.
I've been begging papa not to have you caught, and he says he could not
help it."

"Then he ought to help it," replied Hilary warmly.

"But he says he's bound to keep faith with his friends; and that if you
would only give your word not to escape and betray our hiding-place you
might come and live with us; and oh, Hil dear, it would be like old
times, and we could have such walks together. Do be a good boy, and
promise what papa wishes! I should like you to come and be with us
again, for I have no companion now."

Hilary looked down at the bright little face, and as the thoughts of how
pleasantly the time would pass in her company came upon him, as compared
with the miseries he had to endure, he felt sorely tempted to give his
parole; he might do that, he argued.

"Do come, Hil," she said again, as if she were reading his hesitation.
"Papa will be so pleased."

"And try his best to make me turn traitor," thought Hilary.

"No," he exclaimed, "I cannot do it, Addy; and I'm sure you would not
wish me to break faith with thos