"Door's open, and you might get out." Archy's teeth grated together, but he said nothing, only began to climb, following the boy patiently till they were nearing the opening, when he started so violently that he nearly lost his hold.
For a voice came from above his head,-- "Got him, Ram ?" "Yes, father; here he is." For the moment the midshipman felt disposed to descend again, but he kept on, and a minute later he looked up, to see Ram's frank face looking out of the hole, and the boy stretched out his hand.
"Want any help?
Oh, all right then!" "Did you think you'd get out that way, youngster ?" said Shackle, as the midshipman stood erect at the top of the rough stairs.
"I thought I'd try," said the lad stiffly.
"Took a lot o' trouble for nothing, boy," said the smuggler.

"I come to see what was amiss, Ram, boy, you was so long.

Don't come again without Jemmy Dadd or some one." "No, father." "So you thought you'd get away, did you ?" said the smuggler, with an ugly smile.

"Ought to have known better, boy.

You wouldn't be kept here, if there was a way for you to escape." Archy felt too much depressed to make any sharp reply, and the smuggler turned to his son.
"What's the matter with you ?" "Bit of a tumble, father, that's all," said the boy cheerfully, as he placed his hand to the back of his head.
"You should take care, then; rocks are harder than heads.