“Then you will not help me?”
“Can’t.”
“You will not, you mean,” said Archy bitterly. “You’d sooner keep me here to rot in the darkness.”
“No, I wouldn’t, and I’d let you out if I could,” cried Ram, with animation. “I like you, that I do, because you’re such a brave chap, and not afraid of any of us. S’pose I was a prisoner in your boat, would you let me out?”
“That’s a different thing,” said Archy proudly. “I am a king’s officer, and you are only a smuggler’s boy.”
“I can’t help that,” said Ram warmly. “You wouldn’t let me go because you couldn’t, and I won’t let you go because I can’t.”
“Then get out of this place, and let me be.”
“Shan’t. It’s horrid dull and dark here, and lonesome. I shouldn’t like it, and that’s why I get mother to give me all sorts o’ good things to bring for you, and save ’em up. Father would make a row if he knew. I do like you.”
“Get out!”
“Ah, you may say that, but I’d do anything for you now.”