down again, feeling
a trifle less dejected because of the trivial interruption which had
for the moment excited him, and changed his dismal channel into which
his thoughts had flown.

"Who says rats?" exclaimed a voice in tremulous tones, evidently from
the corner of the room.

Edmund's head was upraised in a moment. His hair stood on end, for, as
he hastily glanced around, his eye lighted upon a form enshrouded in
white. He was convinced that he was at last confronted by one of the
ghostly fraternity, of whose existence he was a firm believer; and
hastily springing from his seat, he retreated as far as he could in
the opposite direction.

To his terror the figure rose up at the same time, and advancing
towards him, frantically waving its arms, and repeating the words
Edmund had just uttered. He was in a frenzy of despair, and rushing
to the door, as the spectre had come up to him, he had made an
ineffectual effort to open it, and was busily engaged in kicking its
stout timbers to attract the attention of the gaolers.

All this took but a moment, but it was a terrible time to Edmund, and
he found himself, in spite of his efforts, completely nonplussed by
the unearthly foe beside him.

"Rats, who says rats?" piped the figure again in its shrill, thin
voice. "Where are they?"

For answer Edmund turned round, and in his desperation lunged out with
his foot towards his persecutor. It struck something solid, and to
Edmund's intense relief the spectre limped away with a howl of pain
just as the key turned in the lock outside.

A moment later the door swung slowly back upon its creaking hinges,
admitting the gaoler, and, at the same time a flood of light, which
disclosed to view the form of a haggard man writhing in pain upon the
wooden bed, sparsely covered with straw, in the very corner of the
room.

"Here's a pretty pickle," quoth the new comer, as he stood upon the
threshold of the door. "Which of you made all the din? Halloa, why
Peter," he added, as he stepped up to the side of the bed and gazed
upon the emaciated form of an old and well-known inmate of the Hut,
"what does all this portend?"

No sooner had he stepped into the room than Edmund, seeing the doorway
clear, bolted out on an ill-timed venture of escape. He rushed
along the passage, hotly pursued by his custodian, and ran without
interruption into the yard; but here, alas, he was at bay. It was not
the same yard through which he had entered so shor