was roughly forced between his teeth; and then, while one of his captors
held his head, the other bandaged his eyes so completely that, had he
not known it, he could not have told whether it was mid-day or midnight.
Thus, in almost less time than it takes to narrate it, in broad
daylight, and on the borders of his own father's estate, the unfortunate
Percy was made captive, without so much as being able to give an alarm
or to see the faces of his assailants.

He was deposited comfortably on the floor of his own hut, by the side,
oh, cruel fate! of his own machine, and there left to work out any
number of problems which might occur to him during the next six hours;
while his custodians, having carefully padlocked the door, retired to a
respectful distance among the trees, where they could smoke their pipes
in peace, and at the same time keep an eye on the approaches to their
young ward's dungeon.

It did not take Percy many minutes to convince himself that any attempt
to struggle or extricate himself from his bonds would be labour thrown
away. His captors were evidently well up to their business, and there
was no wriggling out of their neatly-tied bonds. Nor did the onslaught
which the boy made with his teeth on the gag result in anything but
disaster. It loosened at least two of his teeth, and gave him during
the remainder of the day considerable pain in some of the others. As to
his eyes, he rubbed his forehead and the side of his head on the floor,
in the hopes of shifting the bandage, but all in vain. He got it over
his ears as well as his eyes for his pains, and could scarcely hear a
sound.

As the afternoon went on, the sun slanted its rays cruelly through the
little skylight on to the spot where he lay, and the flies, attracted by
the rare chance, swarmed in under the door and through the cracks to
make merry with their defenceless victim. Had the sun been seven times
as hot, or the flies venomous and deadly, he would have preferred it,
for it would have shortened his misery considerably. When at last the
sun got across the window, and left him at peace, he was scarcely in a
position to appreciate his mercies.

Not long after the distant Overstone chimes had sounded four, his heart
(about the only unfettered portion of him) leapt to his mouth as he
heard his name called in Raby's voice outside. Nor was his the only
heart whom that cheery sound caused to palpitate. The two watchers in
the wood above he