It was getting dark when they reached this ugly little building, but they were unceremoniously thrust inside, and when the key grated in the lock and the two men had left them, with only the rats for their companions, they were just a little bit "skeered."
"Jamie! Where are you?" asked Jack, when they had been left alone in the silence and the darkness for some minutes.
"Here! Here!" cried his companion, and they crept along the wall until they were able to touch each other. Then they cowered down in a corner, against the wall.
"We'll get out of this before morning, else my name's not Jack Elliot, and then we'll do that which we've often spoken about. We'll run away--we'll go to sea--we'll tramp to Liverpool, and we'll find a ship going abroad, and we'll get taken aboard somehow--and--and we'll stick together, and make our fortunes. What say you, Jamie?"
"Jack, you're a brick. Give me your hand. I'll go with you, and we'll stick together. I've no father and no mother, and no friends--except you. All the world's against us. Old Click and Beagle have been trying to catch us for months, and now they've done it. They'll brag about it, and the whole village will laugh at us."
"Yes, they've threatened to turn us out of school, and now they'll perhaps send us to prison, just for taking a few trout, as though God didn't make the trout, and the streams, and the woods for all of us. And to-morrow they'll bring us before the magistrates----"
"Will they, though? They won't have the chance. Just hold this, while I get a light, and then we'll examine the place," and Jamie pulled a piece of tar-band out of his pocket, unravelled the end, and handed it to his companion. Next, he took out his tinder-box, and quickly threw a shower of sparks on to the tow, which produced a little flame, about the size of a rushlight. Then they began to look around them.
It was a common type of village lock-up, built of rough, undressed stones from the neighbouring quarries. It had massive oaken doors, which had been securely locked, and there were no windows, for the only opening was a small aperture, eighteen inches square, and about seven feet from the ground, and it was caged by several rusty iron bars. The floor was flagged with stones and covered with rushes.
The place was used merely as a temporary lock-up for poachers and other law-breakers before their transference to the county gaol, and was situated just outside the village. In a few minutes they had examined the doors, the walls and the floor, but they sought in vain for any spot that offered a chance of escape.
"The grating, Jack! Let's try the grating. I reckon that's our only chance. Here, give me a leg! Let me climb on to your shoulders and try the bars." This was no sooner said than done.