The constable, on seeing the order, admitted me without hesitation.
“Well, Master Dick, this is kind of you to come and see me when I’m in trouble,” said Mark, immediately stretching out his hand. “From what I hear, it will go hard with me.”
I asked him if he could not prove that he had been misled by others, and would promise not to go poaching again.
“No; that I can’t, either one or the other,” he answered promptly. “I went of my own free will, and if I was let out, as long as I had a gun and powder and shot, I should go and make use of it. But I don’t want to go to prison; and if I’m sent to sea, I should like to choose how and when I am to go.”
“You must find it very dull work sitting here all day, having nothing to do,” I remarked. “Would you like to make some blocks? I have got some wood and a sharp knife, with a saw and file, in my pocket. It will be better than doing nothing.”
Mark gave a sharp look in my face, and said—
“Yes, that I should. I never like to have my hands idle. You shall have the blocks for your cutter when I have finished them.”
Thinking only of the amusement it would afford Mark, I handed him out the necessary tools, and promised to obtain some more wood for him to work on should he be sent to prison. The other two men were lying down, apparently asleep, while I paid my visit to Mark. They took no notice of me. After I left, instead of going directly home, I returned to old Roger, that I might report the ill-success of my visit to Sir Reginald.
“I feared it would be so from the first,” said Roger. “A prison is a bad place for a boy, and I’d rather he had been sent off to sea.”
“I’ll ask my father to try what he can do, though I’m afraid he’ll not be more successful than I have been.”