"What may that be?"
"The galleys," was the reply.
The waggoner stared hard at young Murray.
"I don't like the look of you much more than that of the beast lying there," he thought to himself; "mind you don't keep him company in the galleys."
An odd fancy to cross a stranger's mind.
Was it prophetic?
CHAPTER XCV.
PLANS FOR OUR FRIENDS' RELEASE—MURRAY'S COUNTER-PLOT—THE LETTER, AND HOW IT WAS INTERCEPTED—HERBERT MURRAY TRIUMPHS—CHIVEY WORKS THE ARTFUL DODGE.
"Well," exclaimed the unfortunate Mole, "this is a nice go!"
"I'm glad you think it nice," said young Jack, bitterly.