“That’s right, then. Of course, all I want to do is to get safe away so as to bring back the key of them irons, or a file, and as soon as we’ve got them off you’re going to give me till to-morrow about this time before you come out?”
“We can’t stay in this horrible hole all night,” cried Aleck, impetuously.
“Don’t see as it’s much of a horrible hole, master,” said the man; “there’s plenty to eat and drink, and a good roof over your heads. I’ve slept here times enough. There arn’t nothing to worry you—no old bogies. Wust thing I ever see here was a seal, which come in one night, splashing about; and he did scare me a bit till I knowed what it was. But that’s the bargain, gentlemen, and there’s no running back. There’s the lanthorn, and there’s a box yonder with plenty of candles, and a tinder-box with flint, steel, and matches, so you never need be in the dark. Plenty of bread and bacon, cheese, and butter too, so you’ll be all right; so there’s no call to say no more about that. Now, then, I’m going uppards to try if I can find out what’s going on outside. I shall keep coming down to tell you till I think my chance of getting home has come, and then I shall run off and you’ll wait till I come back.”
“Very well,” said Aleck, who found that he had all the talking to do, and after a time the smuggler rose.
“There,” he said, “I’m going now. Say good luck to me.”
“Well,” replied Aleck, “good luck to you! Be as quick as you can. But what are you going to do about a light?”
“What for?” said the man, gruffly.
“To find your way to the zigzag slopes.”
The smuggler laughed softly.
“I don’t want any light to go about this place, squire. There arn’t an inch I don’t know by heart.”