"Now, Mr. Ernest Thornton, it is my turn," said Tom, as he partially closed the door of my cell, and gazed in upon me. "You are a smart boy, but you have rather overdone it this time. I told you in the beginning that I was not to be trifled with. You begin to believe what I said by this time. Have you anything to say before I close the door?"
"A couple of days in this place will bring you to your senses," added Tom, malignantly.
I made no reply. I did not feel like talking. I was busy thinking how I should recover the ground I had lost. I saw that the cellar wall was not laid in mortar, except two or three feet at the top and above the ground. I had already made up my mind that this wall would begin to come down as soon as I was left alone.
While I was looking at the situation, old Betsey—whom I had never suspected of having the least interest in me—tottered down the cellar stairs, and protested that I should not be confined in such a place. Tom told her it was her employer's orders, and drove her out of the cellar. I was satisfied that the old housekeeper was not a party to the deceit by which I had been lured into the trap. My uncle told her that he and Tom were going to Parkville after the horse, as Betsey explained to me afterwards, bidding her call me to breakfast, that I might not be late to school. This was Tom's plan to insnare me, and during this time he was in the cellar, preparing the dungeon for my reception. My uncle and old Jerry had gone in the buggy after Tom's horse and chaise.
"Ernest, I am willing to make terms with you now," said Tom, after he had got rid of Betsey. "I came over here after that girl. You say you know where she is. If you will tell me where I can find her, I will not shut you up. Will you do it?"
"No!" I answered, as decidedly as I could speak the word.
"Think well of it. If I can't find her with your help, I shall find her without it."
"Perhaps you will."
"The Hale boy was with you. I shall have him arrested at once by the sheriff."