The Adventures of Don Lavington Part 22

"Bravo, boy! That's right; but we're English, and going to be your messmates. Wait till you get at the French; then you may talk like that."

He caught Don by the hips, and with a dexterous Cornish wrestling trick, raised him from the ground, and then threw him lightly beside Jem.

"You'll do," he said. "I thought we'd let you go, because you're such a boy, but you've got the pluck of a man, and you'll soon grow."

He stepped quickly to the entrance, and Don struggled to his feet, and dashed at him again, but only flung himself against the door, which was banged in his face, and locked.

"The cowards!" panted Don, as he stood there in the darkness. "Why, Jem!"

"Yes, Mas' Don."

"They won't let us go."

"No, Mas' Don, that they won't."

"I never thought the press-gang would dare to do such a thing as this."

"I did, sir. They'd press the monkeys out of a wild beast show if they got the chance."

"But what are we to do?"

"I d'know, sir."

"We must let my uncle know at once."

"Yes, sir, I would," said Jem grimly; "I'd holloa."

"Don't be stupid. What's the good?"

"Not a bit, sir."

"But my uncle--my mother, what will they think?"

"I'll tell yer, sir."

"Yes?"

"They'll think you've run away, so as not to have to go 'fore the magistrates."

"Jem, what are you saying? Think I'm a thief?"

"I didn't say that, sir; but so sure as you don't go home, they'll think you've cut away."

"Jem!" cried Don in a despairing voice, as he recalled the bundle he had made up, and the drawer left open.

"Well, sir, you was allus a-wanting to go abroad, and get away from the desk," said Jem ill-naturedly--"oh, how my head do ache!--and now you've got your chance."

"But that was all nonsense, Jem. I was only thinking then like a stupid, discontented boy. I don't want to go. What will they say?"

"Dunno what they'll say," said Jem dolefully, "but I know what my Sally will say. I used to talk about going and leaving her, but that was because I too was a hidyut. I didn't want to go and leave her, poor little la.s.s. Too fond on her, Mas' Don. She only shows a bit o'

temper."

"Jem, she'll think you've run away and deserted her."

"Safe, Mas' Don. You see, I made up a bundle o' wittles as if I was a-going, and she saw me take it out under my arm, and she called to me to stop, but I wouldn't, because I was so waxy."

"And I made up a bundle too, Jem. I--I did half think of going away."

"Then you've done it now, my lad. My Sally will think I've forsook her."

"And they at home will think of me as a thief. Oh, fool--fool--fool!"

"What's the use o' calling yourself a fool, Mas' Don, when you means me all the time? Oh, my head, my head!"

"Jem, we must escape."

"Escape? I on'y wish we could. Oh, my head: how it do ache."

"They will take us off to the tender, and then away in some s.h.i.+p, and they will not know at home where we are gone Jem, get up."

"What's the good, sir? My head feels like feet, and if I tried to stand up I should go down flop!"

"Let me help you, Jem. Here, give me your hand. How dark it is?

Where's your hand?"

"Gently, my lad; that's my hye. Arn't much use here in the dark, but may want 'em by-and-by. That's better. Thank ye, sir. Here, hold tight."

"Can't you stand, Jem?"

"Stand, sir? Yes: but what's the matter? It's like being in a round-about at the fair."

"You'll be better soon."

"Better, sir? Well, I can't be worse. Oh, my head, my head! I wish I'd got him as did it headed up in one of our barrels, I'd give him such a roll up and down the ware'us floor as 'ud make him as giddy as me."

"Now try and think, Jem," said Don excitedly. "They must not believe at home that we are such cowards as to run away."

"No, sir; my Sally mustn't think that."

"Then what shall we do?"

"Try to get out, sir, of course."

"Can you walk?"

"Well, sir, if I can't, I'll crawl. What yer going to do?"

"Try the door. Perhaps they have left it unlocked."