“Enough,” replied Darrell.  “Lead on!”

Followed by Darrell, Jonathan retraced his dangerous path.  As he approached the gable of Mrs. Sheppard’s house, loud yells and vociferations reached his ears; and, looking downwards, he perceived a great stir amid the mob.  The cause of this uproar was soon manifest.  Blueskin and the Minters were dragging Wood to the pump.  The unfortunate carpenter struggled violently, but ineffectually.  His hat was placed upon one pole, his wig on another.  His shouts for help were answered by roars of mockery and laughter.  He continued alternately to be tossed in the air, or rolled in the kennel until he was borne out of sight.  The spectacle seemed to afford as much amusement to Jonathan as to the actors engaged in it.  He could not contain his satisfaction, but chuckled, and rubbed his hands with delight.

“By Heaven!” cried Darrell, “it is the poor fellow whom I placed in such jeopardy a short time ago.  I am the cause of his ill-usage.”

“To be sure you are,” replied Jonathan, laughing.  “But, what of that?  It’ll be a lesson to him in future, and will show him the folly of doing a good-natured action!”

But perceiving that his companion did not relish his pleasantry and fearing that his sympathy for the carpenter’s situation might betray him into some act of imprudence, Jonathan, without further remark, and by way of putting an end to the discussion, let himself drop through the roof.  His example was followed by Darrell.  But, though the latter was somewhat embarrassed by his burthen, he peremptorily declined Jonathan’s offer of assistance.  Both, however, having safely landed, they cautiously crossed the room, and passed down the first flight of steps in silence.  At this moment, a door was opened below; lights gleamed on the walls; and the figures of Rowland and Sir Cecil were distinguished at the foot of the stairs.

Darrell stopped, and drew his sword.

“You have betrayed me,” said he, in a deep whisper, to his companion; “but you shall reap the reward of your treachery.”

“Be still!” returned Jonathan, in the same under tone, and with great self-possession:  “I can yet save you.  And see!” he added, as the figures drew back, and the lights disappeared; “it’s a false alarm.  They have retired.  However, not a moment is to be lost.  Give me your hand.”

He then hurried Darrell down another short flight of steps, and entered a small chamber at the back of the house.  Closing the door, Jonathan next produced his lantern, and, hastening towards the window, undrew a bolt by which it was fastened.  A stout wooden shutter, opening inwardly, being removed, disclosed a grating of iron bars.  This obstacle, which appeared to preclude the possibility of egress in that quarter, was speedily got rid of.  Withdrawing another bolt, and unhooking a chain suspended from the top of the casement, Jonathan pushed the iron framework outwards.  The bars dropped noiselessly and slowly down, till the chain tightened at the staple.