For a moment, enveloped as he was in straw, and with the rude arch of the dungeon meeting in four rough-hewn groinings above his head, he stared about him in bewilderment.

Then in an instant the doings of the day before, his mission, the ambuscade, his imprisonment, all flashed back to him, and he sprang to his feet.

His comrade, who had been dozing in the corner, jumped up also at the first movement, with his hand on his knife, and a sinister glance directed towards the door.
"Oh, it's you, is it ?" said he, "I thought it was the man." "Has some one been in, then ?" "Yes; they brought those two loaves and a jug of water, just about dawn, when I was settling down for a rest." "And did he say anything ?" "No; it was the little black one." "Simon, they called him." "The same.

He laid the things down and was gone.

I thought that maybe if he came again we might get him to stop." "How, then ?" "Maybe if we got these stirrup leathers round his ankles he would not get them off quite as easy as we have done." "And what then ?" "Well, he would tell us where we are, and what is to be done with us." "Pshaw! what does it matter since our mission is done ?" "It may not matter to you--there's no accounting for tastes--but it matters a good deal to me.