man, running to the trap and
beginning to descend.

"You'll take my message?"

"Nay, not I," said the man, shaking his head. "There, eat your
breakfuss, and keep your head to the wind, my lads."

_Bang_!

The door was shut heavily and the rusty bolt shot. Then the two
prisoners listened to the descending footsteps and to the murmur of
voices from below, after which Don looked across the steaming jug at
Jem, and Jem returned the stare.

"Mornin', Mas' Don," he said. "Rum game, arn't it?"

"Do you think he'll take my message, Jem?"

"Not a bit on it, sir. You may take your oath o' that."

"Will they take us aboard ship?"

"Yes, sir, and make sailors on us, and your uncle's yard 'll go to rack
and ruin; and there was two screws out o' one o' the shutter hinges as I
were going to put in to-day."

"Jem, we must escape them."

"All right, Mas' Don, sir. 'Arter breakfast."

"Breakfast? Who is to eat breakfast?"

"I am, sir. Feels as if it would do me good."

"But we must escape, Jem--escape."

"Yes, sir; that's right," said Jem, taking off the cup, and sniffing at
the jug. "Coffee, sir. Got pretty well knocked about last night, and
I'm as sore this morning as if they'd been rolling casks all over me.
But a man must eat."

"Eat then, and drink then, for goodness' sake," cried Don impatiently.

"Thankye, sir," said Jem; and he poured out a cup of steaming coffee,
sipped it, sipped again, took three or four mouthfuls of bread and
butter, and then drained the cup.

"Mas' Don!" he cried, "it's lovely. Do have a cup. Make you see
clear."

As he spoke he refilled the mug and handed it to Don, who took it
mechanically, and placed it to his lips, one drop suggesting another
till he had finished the cup.

"Now a bit o' bread and butter, Mas' Don?"

Don shook his head, but took the top piece, and began mechanically to
eat, while Jem partook of another cup, there being a liberal allowance
of some three pints.

"That's the way, sir. Wonderful what a difference breakfuss makes in a
man. Eat away, sir; and if they don't look out we'll give them
press-gang."

"Yes, but how, Jem? How?"

"Lots o' ways, sir. We'll get away, for one thing, or fasten that there
trap-door down; and then they'll be the prisoners, not us. 'Nother cup,
sir? Go on with the bread and butter. I say, sir, do I look lively?"

"Lively?"

"I mean much knocked about? My face feels as if the skin was too tight,
and as if