“What do you want?”
“Did you not expect some officers from London?”
“We did; but, for the lor’s sake, don’t put the muzzle of that pistol so near my head, it might go off.”
“I am one of them,” said Ned, scarcely able to keep from laughing, “and have a very disagreeable duty to perform.”
“What is it?”
“My comrades called here, and found you asleep. We took the prisoner in our own charge, and my duty here is to lock both of you up.”
“Lock us up?”
“Yes, both of you, and to feed you on bread and water for a month, for not attending to your duty.”
“It warn’t my fault; it were his watch,” said one.
“No quarrelling,” said Ned, grinning under his mask; “rise, both of you; Bob Bertram’s cell is now open and empty; go into it, both of ye, and this instant, knaves, or I’ll drive holes into each of you.”