"Take them back," he gurgled out with school-lad glee. "'Twill be a pretty to-do of witchcraft to-morrow when they find a cell empty. Go hire passage to England in Captain Gillam's boat!"
"Captain Gillam's boat?"
"Yes, or Master Ben's pirate-ship of the north, if she's there," and he had dashed off in the dark.
When Rebecca appeared above the cellar-way with a flagon that reamed to a beaded top, the keys were back on the wall.
"I was overlong," panted Rebecca, with eyes averted as of old to the folds of her white stomacher. "'Twas a stubborn bung and hard to draw."
"Dear little cheat! God bless you!—and bless you!—and bless you, Rebecca!" I cried.
At which the poor child took fright.
"It—it—it was not all a lie, Ramsay," she stammered. "The bung was hard—and—and—and I didn't hasten——"
"Dear comrade—good-bye, forever!" I called from the dark-of the step.
"Forever?" asked the faint voice of a forlorn figure black in the doorway.