up, suppose we say that I am
castled."

"Very good," laughed Sir Henry going to the door and passing out.

"Very good or very bad," muttered Hilary, "I mean to be out before many
days are passed; and when once I am free the smugglers may look out for
squalls."

CHAPTER THIRTY.

HILARY TRIES AGAIN.

Soon after Sir Henry had gone, Hilary went to the window, but drew back
directly.

"No," he said to himself, "if I go there I shall be tempted into giving
my parole or joining the Pretender's party. Sir Henry seems to think he
can win me over; so let us see."

He began to walk up and down his prison. Then it struck him that his
clothes had pretty well grown dry again, and he went over in his mind
the incidents of the day and the past night, thoughts which were
interrupted by the coming of Allstone, who bore some bread and meat, and
a mug of beer, while a man behind him dragged in a table and chair, and
afterwards carried in a straw mattress and a pillow, Allstone looking
grimly on.

The man went out, but Allstone still waited, and at last the man came
back with a bundle of sheets and blankets, which he threw upon the bed.

"There," said Allstone, "that will do;" and seeing the man out, he
darted a surly look at Hilary, and then followed and banged the door.

"Thank you," said Hilary, laughing. "Perhaps a ladder would have been a
little more convenient; but what donkeys people are--give a sailor
sheets and blankets, and shut him up in a garret, and think he won't
escape! Ha! ha! ha!"

The sight of the food changed the current of Hilary's thoughts, and
sitting down he made a very hearty meal, felt that his clothes had grown
thoroughly dry, and then did what was not surprising under the
circumstances, began to nod, and then went off fast asleep.

Before an hour had passed he awoke; but he was so drowsy that he threw
himself upon the mattress, and falling asleep directly he did not awaken
till early the next morning.

No escape that day, and as he had to make up his mind to this, he waited
until Allstone came with a rough breakfast, when he made a peremptory
demand for some means of washing and making himself more presentable.

"My orders be to bring you something to sleep on and your meals, that's
all," growled the fellow. "I had no orders about washing tackle."

"Get out, you surly ill-conditioned ruffian," cried Hilary; and the
fellow grinned.

"Here's something for you," he said, contemptuously