“What’s the matter?” growled the owner of the hand.
“The matter will be that you two will be hung at the yardarm some fine morning. How dare you shut me up in this hole?”
“Hung for shutting you up here?” cried the boy. “We shall have to hang him then, Jemmy, after all.”
“Ay, lad,” said the man. “When’ll we do it; now?”
“Now!” cried the midshipman. “Do you think you are going to frighten me with such talk? Show me the way out of this place directly.”
“Ram, lad,” said Jemmy Dadd, with a cackling laugh; “when yer ketches a wild thing, and puts him in a cage, he begins to bang hisself agen the sides, and knocks his head agen the bars, and if he could talk he’d go on just like that ’ere. Then you keeps quiet, and don’t give him nothing to eat, and after a day or two you can do what you like with him.”
“Then we’d better take back the basket, Jemmy, eh?”
“Ay, lad, that’s it. Leave him in the dark a bit to cool him down.”
“You scoundrels!” cried the lad in frenzy. “If you do not show me the way out, I’ll shout for help, and when it does come, I’ll take care your punishment shall be ten times worse.”
“Ah, do,” said Ram, laughing. “Won’t bring the roof down, will it, Jemmy?”