ave you sixpence freely of our own
will.'

The man did look a little bit ashamed, but he mumbled something about
having his living to get. Then Oswald said--

'Here you are. Catch!' and he flung down the handkerchief with the money
in it.

The man muffed the catch--butter-fingered idiot!--but he picked up
the handkerchief and undid it, and when he saw what was in it he swore
dreadfully. The cad!

'Look here,' he called out, 'this won't do, young shaver. I want those
there shiners I see in your pus! Chuck 'em along!'

Then Oswald laughed. He said--

'I shall know you again anywhere, and you'll be put in prison for this.
Here are the SHINERS.' And he was so angry he chucked down purse and
all. The shiners were not real ones, but only card-counters that looked
like sovereigns on one side. Oswald used to carry them in his purse so
as to look affluent. He does not do this now.

When the man had seen what was in the purse he disappeared under the
tower, and Oswald was glad of what he had done about the bolts--and he
hoped they were as strong as the ones on the other side of the door.

They were.

We heard the man kicking and pounding at the door, and I am not ashamed
to say that we were all holding on to each other very tight. I am proud,
however, to relate that nobody screamed or cried.

After what appeared to be long years, the banging stopped, and presently
we saw the brute going away among the trees. Then Alice did cry, and I
do not blame her. Then Oswald said--

'It's no use. Even if he's undone the door, he may be in ambush. We must
hold on here till somebody comes.'

Then Alice said, speaking chokily because she had not quite done
crying--

'Let's wave a flag.'

By the most fortunate accident she had on one of her Sunday petticoats,
though it was Monday. This petticoat is white. She tore it out at the
gathers, and we tied it to Denny's stick, and took turns to wave it. We
had laughed at his carrying a stick before, but we were very sorry now
that we had done so.

And the tin dish the Lent pie was baked in we polished with our
handkerchiefs, and moved it about in the sun so that the sun might
strike on it and signal our distress to some of the outlying farms.

This was perhaps the most dreadful adventure that had then ever happened
to us. Even Alice had now stopped thinking of Mr Richard Ravenal, and
thought only of the lurker in ambush.

We all felt our desperate situation keenly. I must say Denn