“So now, take my advice, open that door, and set me free. If you do this, I’ll promise to intercede for you two, and I daresay I can save you from punishment.”
“Well, that’s handsome; isn’t it, Jemmy?” said Ram mockingly.
“Do you hear me?” cried Archy.
“Oh, I can, quite plain,” said Jemmy.
“So can I,” said Ram; “but your dinner’s ready, Mr Orficer; so come and have it.”
“Enough of this,” cried Archy, wrenching himself free. “Open that door, and let me go.”
“Better carry him, Jemmy.”
“If you dare!” cried the angry prisoner, beginning the struggle, but Jemmy Dadd’s muscles were like steel, and he whipped the young midshipman off his feet, and carried him, kicking and struggling with all his might, right along the cave, Ram going first with the lanthorn; and in spite of its feeble, poor, dulled light, the prisoner was able to get a better idea of the shape and size of the place than he had had before.
The captive ceased struggling, and keenly watched the various pillars and heaps they passed, noting too how the cavern seemed to extend in a wide passage right on before them, and seemingly endless gloom.
“There you are,” said Jemmy, as he set his burden down; “quite at home. Is he going to ask us to dinner, Ram, lad, and send for his skipper to jyne us?”