Before he had reached the point of intersection he heard voices from the thicket.
'Hoi-hoi-hoi! Help, help!' The voices were not at all feeble or despairing, but they were unmistakably anxious.

Stockdale had no weapon, and before plunging into the pitchy darkness of the plantation he pulled a stake from the hedge, to use in case of need.

When he got among the trees he shouted--'What's the matter--where are you ?' 'Here,' answered the voices; and, pushing through the brambles in that direction, he came near the objects of his search.
'Why don't you come forward ?' said Stockdale.
'We be tied to the trees!' 'Who are you ?' 'Poor Will Latimer the exciseman!' said one plaintively.

'Just come and cut these cords, there's a good man.

We were afraid nobody would pass by to-night.' Stockdale soon loosened them, upon which they stretched their limbs and stood at their ease.
'The rascals!' said Latimer, getting now into a rage, though he had seemed quite meek when Stockdale first came up.