“Yes, sir. Captain Junk’s orders—where you like, so long as you don’t try to escape.”
“But I must escape!” cried Humphrey, angrily. “Tell the captain I will not give my parole.”
“He don’t want it, sir. You can go where you like, only if you try to escape you will be shot.”
Humphrey Armstrong rose from where he had been lying, and made as if to go to the door, his face full of excitement, his eyes flashing, and his hands all of a tremble.
“Go!” he said, sharply. “Send that man who has acted as my servant.”
“Servant!” muttered Bart, as he passed the curtain; “and him a prisoner! Dinny called hisself his turnkey, but said as there was no door to lock. Here! hoi! Dinny!”
“What do you want with him?” said a fierce voice; and he turned, to find the lieutenant coming out of one of the ruined buildings.
“Prisoner wants him,” said Bart, sturdily. “Here, Dinny, Captain Armstrong wants you.”
“Ay, ay,” cried Dinny, who seemed to divine that Mazzard was about to stop him, and ran hastily on; while the lieutenant, who was half-drunk, stood muttering, and then walked slowly away.
“Not so well, sor!”