“Then you shan’t have this. There!” cried Ram, and snatching up the one he had brought, he walked straight away, swinging his lanthorn after he had shut it with a snap.
“Going to give it to me?” he cried, as he stopped about half way to the trap-door.
“No.”
“You’ll want all this, and I’ve got some good tack inside.”
“Be off, fellow, and don’t bother me.”
“Yah! Who want’s to?” cried Ram; and he went off whistling merrily till he was at the opening, when he shouted back,—
“No oats to-day, pony. Good-bye.”
Archy leaped up and stood listening with his heart beating fast, and his head bent in the direction taken by the boy.
“How unfortunate!” he said. “But I could not help it. Will he come back?”
He listened and listened and hesitated, but there was no sound, and still he hesitated, till quite a couple of hours must have passed, when he uttered a loud exultant cry, determined now to make one bold dash for liberty, and made straight through the darkness for the open way.