The prisoner had been sitting upon the sawdust about an hour, when the door opened again, and the two men entered, one bearing a bundle of blankets and a couple of pillows, the other a tray with a large cup of hot coffee and a plate of bread and butter. "There, you see we shan't starve you," said the first man; "and you can make yourself a bed with these when you've done." "Will you leave me a light?" "No," says the man with a laugh. "Wild sort of lads like you are not fit to trust with lights. Good-night." The door of the inner cellar was closed and bolted, for it was not like ours, a simple arch; and then the outer cellar door was shut as well; and Mr Barclay sat for hours reproaching himself for his infatuation, before, wearied out, he lay down and fell asleep. How the time had gone, he could not tell, but he woke up suddenly, to find that there was a light in the cellar, and the two men were looking down at him. "That's right--wake up," says the principal speaker, "and put on those." "But," began Mr Barclay, as the man pointed to some rough clothes. "Put on those togs, confound you!" cried the fellow fiercely, "or--" He tapped the butt of a pistol; and there was that in the man's manner which showed that he was ready to use it. There was nothing for it but to obey; and in a few minutes the prisoner stood up unbound and in regular workman's dress. "That's right," said his jailer. "Now, come along; and I warn you once for all, that if you break faith and attempt to call out, you die, as sure as your name's Barclay Drinkwater!" Mr Barclay felt as if he was stunned; and, half-led, half pushed, he was taken into what had once been the pantry, but was now a curious-looking place, with a bricked round well in the middle, while on one side was fixed a large pair of blacksmith's forge bellows, connected with a zinc pipe which went right down into the well. "What does all this mean?" he said. "What are you going to do?" "Wait, and you'll see," was all the reply he could get; and he stared round in amazement at the heaps of new clay that had been dug out, the piles of old bricks which had evidently been obtained by pulling down partition walls somewhere in the house, the lower part of which seemed, as it were, being transformed by workmen. Lastly, there were oil-lamps and a pile of cement, the material for which was obtained from a barrel marked "Flour." The man called Ned was better, and joined them there, the three being evidently prepared for work, in which Mr Barclay soon found that he was to participate, and at this point he made a stand. "Look here," he said; "I demand an explanation. What does all this mean?" "Are you ready for work?" cried the leader of the little gang, seizing him by the collar menacingly. "You people have obtained possession of this house under false pretences, and you have made the place an utter wreck. I insist on knowing what it means."