“’Tain’t a d-dungeon,” says Mark. “We’re shut up in the tower of the Knight we’ve been f-fightin’. There’s men-at-arms crowdin’ all around, and the drawb-bridge is up and the moat’s full of water. I guess he’s holdin’ us for ransom.”
“If I don’t git somethin’ to eat perty soon,” says I, “he won’t have anythin’ to ransom.”
“Food,” says Mark, “hain’t to be thought about in sich circ’mstances. Here we be shut in the same t-tower with the young Duke that we’re liegemen of, and his father’s retainer, the Knight Pekoe. What’s food compared with sich things?”
“Even a Duke,” says I, “wouldn’t be much good if he didn’t eat for a week or two. I guess they’d be lookin’ for a new Duke to take his job.”
“The b-best of it,” says Mark, “is that the Duke’s secret is hid in this Castle Wigglesworth. If we could git it we could rescue the Duke and the Knight would wish he hadn’t ever been born.”
“You hain’t figgerin’ on tryin’ to follow up that paper thingumbob of Mr. Wigglesworth’s, be you?”
“We’re inside the castle,” says Mark, “and the enemy don’t know it. Never have a b-better chance to snoop around, if we wait till after dark.”
“Without nothin’ to eat,” says I.
He jest sniffed.
“And,” says I, “with the risk of this Knight Jethro findin’ us snoopin’.”