"I say, do have a bottle o' milk," he said; "it's fresh and warm.

Mother said it would do you good."

"Nay, lad, don't give him none till he's grow'd civil, and don't talk about hanging on us."

"I brought you a bottle o' new milk and some hot bread, on'y it's getting cold now, and some b.u.t.ter and cold ham. Do have some."

Archy ground his teeth: he felt as if he would give anything for some food, and the very mention of the tasty viands made his mouth water, but he only stamped his foot and tried to shake himself free.

"I am a king's officer," he shouted, "and order you to let me go!"

"Hear that, Jemmy? Hold him tight."

"Ay! He's tight enough!" cried the man, throwing a st.u.r.dy arm about the middy's waist, and holding him back as he tried to get at Ram.

"No good to give orders here," said the latter, grinning. "You're only a king's officer when you're aboard your little bit of a cutter."

"Will you let me out of this place?"

"If I let you go will you tell your skipper about what you've seen?"

"Yes," cried Archy fiercely.

"Then what a dumble head you must be to think we'll let you go. Won't do, little officer; will it, Jemmy?"

"Do! Better chuck him off the cliff."

"What!" cried the midshipman fiercely.

"Chuck you off the cliff. What do you mean by coming interfering here with honest men getting their living? We never did nothing to you."

"You scoundrel!" cried Archy, "how dare you say that? You know you are breaking the laws by smuggling, and you are doing worse by kidnapping me."

"Should have kep' away then," growled the man.

"Don't speak cross to him, Jemmy. He's very sorry he came now, and if I let him go he'll promise not to say a word about what he has seen; won't you now, mate?"

"No!" roared Archy.

"Oh, well then, Jemmy's right. We shall have to tame you down."

"Show me the way out of this."

"Come along then," said Ram with a sneering laugh. "But you'd better promise."

"Show me the way out."

"Won't you have some milk first?"

"Do you hear me?"

"And bread and b.u.t.ter, home-made?"

"Will you show me the way out."

"Nor no ham? You must be hungry!"

"You scoundrel!" cried Archy, who was exasperated almost beyond bearing.

"Show me the way out."

"Oh, very well, this way, then. Hold him tight, Jemmy."

"Ay, ay, lad!"

"This way, my grand officer without your fine clothes," said Ram tauntingly, as he held down the lanthorn to show the rough stone floor.

"Mind how you put your feet, and take care. Why don't you come?"

Archy made a start forward, but he was tightly held.

"Why don't you come, youngster?" cried Ram mockingly, as he held the lanthorn more closely. "There, now then, mind how you come."

_Whang_!

The dull sound was followed by a faint clatter, and all was black darkness again, for raging with hunger and annoyance as the boy was, tightly held, the light down just in front of him, without any warning Archy drew back slightly, delivered one quick, sharp kick full at the lanthorn, and it flew right away into the darkness.

"Well!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Ram in his first moment of surprise. Then he burst into a roar of laughter which echoed from the roof.

"You're a nice un," growled Jemmy.

"Let him go, and come on," cried Ram.

A sudden thought struck the middy.

"No, you don't," he muttered, as he wrenched himself round and clung to the man. "If you are going from here, I go too."

"Got the lanthorn, Ram, lad?" cried Jemmy.

"No; and it's smashed now. Come away."

"Let go, will you?" growled Jemmy.

For answer the midshipman held on more tightly.

"Do you hear? Come on!" cried Ram.

"He won't let go. He's holding on legs, wings and teeth. Come and help."

"Get out: you can manage him. Put him on his back."

No sooner were the words uttered than, as he struggled there in the black darkness, Archy felt himself twisted up off his feet. There was a shake, a wrench, and as he clung tightly to the man, his arms were dragged, as it felt to him, half out of their sockets, and he was thrown, to come down fortunately on his hands and knees.