I'll soon rattle some one up;" and he went sharply to the door, felt for the handle, tried it, and was about to shake it and bang at the panels, when discretion got the better of valour.
For it suddenly occurred to him that he was not only a prisoner, but a prisoner in the power of a very reckless set of people, who would stop at nothing.

They had a valuable cargo hidden in the cellar beneath where he stood, and themselves to save, and naturally they would not hesitate to deal hardly with him, when quite a young, apparently gentle girl treated him as she had done.
"No," he thought to himself, "I don't believe they would kill me, but they would knock me about." On the whole, he decided that it would not be pleasant to be knocked about.

The kick he had received was a foretaste of what he might expect, and after a little consideration he came to the conclusion that his duty was to escape, and get back to the cutter as quickly as he could.
To do this he must scheme, lie hid till morning, then make for the nearest point, and signal for help, unless a boat's crew were already searching for him.
How to escape?
The door was, he well knew, fast.

The window was barred, but he went to it, and tried the bars one by one, to find them all solidly fitted into the stone sill.
Perhaps there was another way out, and to prove that he went softly round to feel the oak panelling which covered the walls, to come upon a door directly.

His hopes began to rise, but they fell directly, for he found it was a closet.
Next moment, as he felt his way about, his hand touched an old-fashioned marble mantelpiece.
Fireplace--chimney! Yes, if other ways failed, he could escape up the chimney.
No, that was too bad.