“Because I am a prisoner,” he said quietly.
“But I thought—I hoped—papa said you were going to give your parole not to escape,” said Adela; “or else that you were going to join our cause and fight for the true king.”
He shook his head mournfully.
“No, Addy. I cannot give my word of honour not to escape,” he said; “because I hope to get away at the first opportunity.”
“Then join our cause,” cried Adela.
“No,” he said, shaking his head, “I cannot join your cause, Addy, because I am an officer appointed in the king’s name to serve in one of King George’s vessels. I should be a traitor if I forsook my colours.”
“But I want you to come,” cried Adela, with the wayward tyranny of a child. “It seems so stupid for you to be shut up there like a wild beast in a cage. Oh, Hil, you must come on our side! Do!”
“Adela! Adela!” cried an imperious voice.
“Yes, papa, I am coming,” she cried; and looking up quickly at the prisoner, she nodded and laughed, and the next moment she had disappeared.
Hilary sat watching as if in the hope that she would come back; but he knew in his heart that she would not, and so it proved at the end of quite a couple of hours.