I say, where's your sword?
Why don't you draw it, and come out and fight?
I'll fight you with a stick." "You insolent young scoundrel!" cried Archy, darting his hand through between the bars, overcome now by his rage, and catching Ram by the collar.
To his astonishment the boy did not flinch, but thrust his own arms through, placing them about the middy's waist, clenching his hands behind, and uttering a sharp whistle.
It was a trap, and the midshipman understood it now.

The boy had been baiting him to rouse him to attack, and he was doubly a prisoner now, held fast against the bars, so that he could not even wrench round his head as he heard the door behind him opened, while as he opened his mouth to cry for help, a great rough hand was placed over his eyes, pressing his head back, a handkerchief was jammed between his teeth, and as he heard a deep growling voice say, "Hold him tight!" a rope was drawn about his chest, pinioning his arms to his sides, and another secured his ankles.
"Now a handkerchief," said the gruff voice.

"Fold it wide.

Be ready!" The midshipman gave his head a jerk, but the effort was vain, for the hand over his eyes gave place to a broad handkerchief, which was tightly tied behind, and then a fierce voice whispered in his ear,-- "Keep still, or you'll get your weasand slit.

D'ye hear ?" But in spite of the threat the lad, frenzied now by rage and excitement, struggled so hard that a fresh rope was wound round him, and he was lifted up by two men, and carried away.
By this time there was a strange singing in his ears, a feeling as if the blood was flooding his eyes, a peculiar, hot, suffocating feeling in his breast, and then he seemed to go off into a painful, feverish sleep, for he knew no more..