t; and I've been kicking and shouting for hours. Am
I to be starved to death?"

"Oh, Hilary!" she cried.

"Well, it seems like it. I haven't had a morsel since yesterday
morning. Get me something, there's a dear girl--bread, meat, tea,
coffee, anything, if it's only oats or barley."

"Wait a minute," cried the girl, turning to go.

"You mustn't be longer, or I shall be dead," shouted Hilary as she ran
off; and then, dropping from the window, the young fellow executed a
figure out of the dance of delight invented for such occasions by Dame
Nature to aid young people in getting rid of their exuberance, stopped
short, pulled out a pocket-comb, and carefully touched up his hair,
relieving it from a number of scraps of straw and chaff in the process.

"A nice Tom o' Bedlam I must have looked," he said to himself. "No
wonder she didn't know me."

"Hil! Hil!"

"Ahoy!" he shouted, scrambling up to the window and slipping down again,
to try the next time more carefully and on regaining the window-sill
there was the bright, eager-looking girl beneath, with a jug of milk and
a great piece of bread.

"This was all I could get now, Hil," she said, her eyes sparkling with
pleasure.

"All!" he cried. "New bread and new milk! Oh, Addy, it's lovely!
There's nothing I like better for breakfast, and our cow on board won't
milk and our oven won't bake. Give us hold: I'm ravenous for the
feast."

Hilary reached one arm down and Adela Norland reached one arm up, but
when they had strained to the utmost a good six feet intervened between
Hilary's hand and the slice of bread.

"Oh, I say, how tantalising!" he cried, giving a shake at the bars.
"Make haste, Addy, and do something. Isn't there a ladder?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. "I'll get a chair."

"Two chairs wouldn't do it," cried Hilary, who, sailor-like, was pretty
ready at ideas. "Here, I know. Get a long stick; put the bread and
milk down first."

She placed the jug on the ground, and was about to run off.

"Cover your handkerchief over them first," cried Hilary, "or I can't
bear to sit and look at them."

"I won't be a minute," cried the girl; and she ran off, leaving the
young sailor in the position of that mythical gentleman Tantalus,
waiting her return.

The minute had reached two when a peculiar grunting noise was heard,
and, to Hilary's horror, an exceedingly pendulous, narrow-backed pig
came snuffing and rooting into sight, turning over