This was not an easy task to one of his tender years, but after one or two efforts he succeeded. “Excellent. Now go behind me and cut through the rope. Don’t be afraid, you won’t hurt me. Hack away as hard as ever you can. Ah, ah, we’ll show them a trick or two. That’s right――hack away.” The celebrated rope trick, as practised by the Davenport brothers, and other impostors, was not known at this time――hence it was that the pinioned lad was powerless without assistance. “Perseverance overcomes all obstacles,” is an old saying, and in the due course of time the rope was severed. Young Purvis was once more free. He seemed to breathe again with fresh life. He threw the cords scornfully on the ground, unfastened the hare, and shook himself in a satisfactory sort of way. “You’re a jolly good little fellow,” he exclaimed, giving his companion a penny by way of reward. “I’m sorry I haven’t in my power to give you more, but I shan’t forget you. I’ll make it up some other time.” The boy took the penny and looked wonderingly at the speaker, who presented altogether a different appearance. “Now, youngster,” said Alf, “you’ve done all I have required of you, and so good-bye. You’ve made a free man of me.” The little urchin scampered off, and Alf Purvis found himself alone. CHAPTER XXXVII. ALF’S RESOLVE――HIS MEETING WITH THE WHITECHAPEL BIRDCATCHER. The dinner hour came and passed away, but the inmates of Stoke Ferry Farm saw nothing of Alf Purvis. Mr. Jamblin was surprised at this, for the boy as a rule had always been punctual enough at meal times. The farmer grew fidgetty; he half regretted having made an example of the lad for an offence which, after all, could not be considered to be one of a very grave character. “That young scapegrace is in his sulks, I expect,” said Jamblin to his daughter. “An’ may be he’s got the hump so strong on him that he’ll be for stoppin’ away for awhile.” “Never fear,” answered Mr. Philip Jamblin; “he’ll come back again when he’s had his fling and hunger begins to set in. He’ll come back fast enough then, I’ll warrant.” “I’m not so sure of that,” returned Patty. “He’s got a mighty spirit of his own. He’s a lad one might lead, but I don’t think he’s easy to drive.” “He’s an obstinate, audacious young varmint, that’s what he be, an’ one as no one can do much good with. Let un stop away an’ he likes,” cried the farmer. He rose from his seat, and sallied forth into the fields. “I think, Phil, that father was a little hard upon him, to hold him up to the ridicule of all the farm people, and then to drive him forth to be the laughing-stock of the whole neighbourhood.” “Oh, I don’t know; it’s no more than he deserves. The lad is always up to mischief, and has been an endless source of trouble and anxiety to us. If I could have had my way I would have got rid of him long ago.” Seven o’clock came, and Mr. Jamblin, the elder, returned to the farmhouse again.