Turning to the armed men, the officer gave them an order which caused them to advance and stand close to the Englishmen--two beside each prisoner--with drawn swords. An extra man took up his position behind Molloy, evidently having regard to his superior size! Then two men, who looked like jailers, advanced to Stevenson, cut the cords that bound his arms, and proceeded to put iron fetters on his wrists. "Comrades," said Molloy, in a low voice, when he perceived that his turn was coming, "shall we make a burst for it--kill them all, get out into street, cut and slash through the town, and make a grand run for it--or die like men?" "Die like fools!" growled Simkin, as he suffered his hands to be manacled. "No, no, Jack," said Armstrong; "don't be rash. Let's bide our time. There's no sayin' what'll turn up." "Well, well," sighed Molloy, resigning himself to his fate, "there's only one thing now that's sartin sure to turn up, an' that is the sod that'll cover our graves." "You're not sure even of that, man," said Moses Pyne, who was beginning to give way to despair, "for may-hap they'll only dig a hole in the sand, an' shove us in." "More likely to leave the dogs an' vultures to clear us out o' the way," said Simkin, whose powers of hope were being tested almost beyond endurance. While the prisoners indulged in these gloomy anticipations, the operation of fixing their irons was finished, after which they were taken across an inner court which was open to the sky. At the other side of this they came to another heavy iron-studded door, which, when opened, disclosed a flight of steps descending into profound darkness. "Go in!" said the negro, who had accompanied them. Molloy, who was first, hesitated, and the tremendous flush on his face, and frown on his shaggy brows, seemed to indicate that even yet he meditated attempting his favourite "burst"! But Stevenson, pushing past him, at once descended, saying, as he went, "Don't be foolish, Jack; we _must_ learn to submit." There were only three steps, and at the bottom a room about fifteen feet square, to enlighten which there was a small hole high up in one of the walls. It did little more, however, than render darkness visible. "God help us!" exclaimed Miles, with a sensation of sinking at the heart which he had never felt before. And little wonder, for, as their eyes became accustomed to the dim light, it was seen that the walls were blank, with nothing on them to relieve the eye save the little hole or window just mentioned; that the floor was of hard earth, and that there was not a scrap of furniture in the room--not even a stool, or a bundle of straw on which to lie down. "`I will trust, and not be afraid,'" said Stevenson, in a low voice. "Who will you trust?" asked Simkin, who was not aware that his comrade had quoted Scripture. "I will trust God," answered the marine.