Andrew administered a rousing shake to his captive as he spoke. He was not ill-pleased that the rector should at last see the result of encouraging tramps.
Hitherto Frank had been in a state of puzzled misery, and had scarcely understood what was going on; but when Andrew mentioned the word lock-up, the whole matter was clear to him. Barney had stolen something; that was the meaning of his abrupt departure before daylight.
The rector looked at him pityingly.
“Where is your companion, my boy?” he said.
Frank did not answer; he stood perfectly passive in Andrew’s hands, and cast his eyes on the ground.
“Don’t yer hear his reverence?” shouted the latter in the boy’s ear.
“I dunno,” said Frank faintly.
“You’d better let me run him over to Aylesford and have him locked up, sir,” said Andrew. “He’d find a tongue then.”
Frank raised his frightened blue eyes entreatingly to the rector’s face without speaking; he saw something in the kind rugged features which encouraged him, for with sudden energy he wriggled himself loose from Andrew and threw himself on his knees.
“Don’t let them lock me up, sir,” he sobbed. “I’ve allers bin a honest lad.”