“But what happened next?”
“Nothing, sir; only they tied my hands behind me, and then put a rope round my ankles, and then one took hold of my head and another of my feet, and they give me a swing, and pitched me on to a heap of them dry leaves like we used to see put round the oranges down in Thames Street.”
“Indian corn,” said Gunson, shortly.
“Yes; and then they went out, and I heard ’em lock the door, leaving me in the half dark place nearly choked with that hankychy in my mouth.”
“Yes; go on, Esau,” I said eagerly. And just then the master of the boat spoke—
“Say, youngster, you was in for it. They meant to hit you over the head to-night, and chuck you into the harbour after dark.”
“Yes,” said Gunson.
“Well, I saved ’em the trouble,” said Esau. “Oh, I just was mad about that pipe; and I seemed to think more about them braces than I did about the money, because, you see, being sewed up like in a belt I never saw the money, and I used to see the braces, and think what good ones they was, every day.”
“Go on, Esau,” I said. “How did you get away?”
“Well, I lay there a bit frightened at first and listened, and all was still; and then I began to wonder what you and Mr Gunson would think about me, and last of all, as I couldn’t hardly breathe, and that great rag thing in my mouth half choked me, I turned over on my face, and began pushing and pushing like a pig, running my nose along till I got the hankychy that was tight round my face down over my nose, and then lower and lower over my mouth and chin, till it was loose round my neck.”