“Storm, Mas’ Don? Why, it’s as clear as clear. Getting late, and us not done.”
“But the rope must be long enough now.”
“Think so, sir?”
“Yes; and if it is not, we can easily drop the rest of the way.”
“What! And break our legs, or sprain our ankles, and be caught? No let’s make it another yard or two.”
“Hist! Quick!”
They were only just in time, for almost before they had thrown the old sacking over the rope, the bolt of the trap-door was thrust back, and the sinister-looking sailor entered with four more, to give a sharp look round the place, and then roughly seize the prisoners.
“Now, then!” cried Jem sharply, “what yer about? Arn’t going to tie us up, are you?”
“Yes, if you cut up rough again,” said the leader of the little party. “Come on.”
“Here, what yer going to do?” cried Jem.