"We thank you for your kindness, sergeant," Enoch said, speaking for the first time since they left the prison; "but there is nothing for us to tell. We can explain about the fetters; but shall insist that Colonel Monckton has no right to flog us until he has some proof to connect us with Seth's escape."
"He thinks he has proof enough already, and so do I, for the matter of that. It's none of my broth, though, and I hope I'll be off duty when you're brought out for punishment."
"When is it likely to happen?" Jacob asked.
"That is what I can't say. It may be to-morrow, or a week from then; but it's bound to come some day if you continue as stiff-necked as you are this morning."
The conversation with this particular member of the British army was ended, and the remainder of the journey made in silence.
On arriving at the prison they were handed over to the same soldier who had been on duty when they entered the gloomy place twice before, and he conducted them to the cell in a stolid manner, apparently paying no heed to either, save to assure himself they did not give him the slip.
When he had thrust them into the cage-like apartment, however, and while he was standing at the door gazing around as if to satisfy himself everything was as it should be, he whispered cautiously:
"You have done well, lads. Some one we know says that you are to keep up your courage and hold your tongues."
Then the door was closed with a resounding crash, as if the jailer feared one of the prisoners might reply, and was desirous of drowning the sound of his voice.
"He must have received that message since we left Colonel Monckton, otherwise it would not be known that we had refused to speak," Jacob whispered, and there was a hopeful ring in his tone. "The 'one we know' was where he heard all we said."