Chapter Fourteen.
A Tempting Offer.
Hilary sat upon the window-ledge and listened, but he heard no further sound; so, coming to the conclusion that though he was extremely indignant he was also still uncommonly hungry, he drained the jug of milk, and went on steadily until he had finished his bread, after which, feeling better, he let himself down from the ledge, which was anything but a comfortable place, and began walking up and down the little chapel.
For a few minutes he was too indignant to do more than think about his position; and he kept on muttering about “A gross case of kidnapping!” “Cowardly scoundrels!” “Insult to king’s officer!” and a few more such expressions; but having partaken of food he felt easier and soon had another good look round the place.
It was only a portion of the old chapel, and had evidently been patched and used for different purposes of late years, so that its old religious character was to a great extent gone.
“I don’t think it would be so very hard to get out,” he said to himself, “if a fellow made up his mind to it, and—hallo! here’s some one coming at last.”
His quick ears had detected footsteps, followed by the unlocking of a door; then the steps passed over a boarded floor in some empty echoing room.
Then he heard voices, and the unlocking of another door, when the voices and steps sounded plainer, and he began to understand how it was that his shouts had not been heard, for the people, whoever they were, now seemed to come down along a stone passage before they stopped at and unlocked the door of his prison.
As the heavy old door was thrown open Hilary saw two things—one which made him very cross, the other which made him very glad.