How I Came Out of my Bonds and of the Terrors of a Fire at Sea

"Whom d'you mean, boy?"

"I mean Her! Her wi' the beautiful, kind eyes an' little feet! Her as sings! Her they calls 'my lady.' Her! Good t' me she is--an' so's you, so I be come to ye, master."

"Ha--did she send you?"

"No, I just come to save you from being hung to-morrow like they says you must."

"And how shall you do this, boy?"

"First wi' this key, master--"

"Stay! Did she give you this key?"

"No, master--I took it!" So, albeit 'twas very dark, the boy very soon had freed me of my shackles; which done (and all a-quiver with haste) he seizes my hand and tugs at it: "Come, master!" he whispered, "This way--this way!" So with his little, rough hand in mine I suffered him to bring me whither he would in the dimness, for not a lanthorn burned anywhere, until at last he halted me at a ladder propped against a bulkhead and mounting before, bade me follow. Up I climbed forthwith, and so to a narrow trap or scuttle through which I clambered with no little to-do, and found myself in a strange place, the roof so low I could barely sit upright and so strait that I might barely lie out-stretched.

"Lie you here, master!" he whispers, "And for the love o' God don't speak nor make a sound!" Saying which, he got him back through the scuttle, closing the trap after him, and I heard the clatter of the ladder as he removed it.