"Yaw-aw-aw-ow!" yawned Steve, half rising and stretching himself. "What's the row? I was just dreaming our captain had come to deliver us--yow-aw-aw-ooh! It's only another parson!" and with that Steve turned himself over and settled to sleep. "My dear Mr. Jailer, do you think that these men are safe--for if you do, I think we had better leave excellent Mr. Gray to talk to them alone--he can do them so much more good if he has them all to himself," said Mrs. Condiment, who was, in spite of all her previous boasting, beginning to quail and tremble under the hideous glare of Demon Dick's eyes. "N-no! n-no! n-no!" faltered the preacher, nervously taking hold of the coat of the warden. "You go along out of this the whole of you! I'm not a wild beast in a cage to be stared at!" growled Demon Dick with a baleful glare that sent Mrs. Condiment and the preacher, shuddering to the cell door. "Mr. Gray, I do assure you, sir, there is no danger! The men are double-ironed, and, malignant as they may be, they can do you no harm. And if you would stay and talk to them you might persuade them to confession and do the community much service," said the warden. "I--I--I'm no coward, but--but--but--" faltered the old man, tremblingly approaching the prisoners. "I understand you, sir. You are in bad health, which makes you nervous." "Yes--yes. Heaven forgive me, but if you, Mr. Jailer, and the good lady here will keep within call, in case of accidents, I don't mind if I do remain and exhort these men, for a short time," said the old man. "Of course we will. Come, Mrs. Condiment, mum! There's a good bench in the lobby and I'll send for my old woman and we three can have a good talk while the worthy Mr. Gray is speaking to the prisoners," said the warden, conducting the housekeeper from the cell. As soon as they had gone the old man went to the door and peeped after them, and having seen that they went to the extremity of the lobby to a seat under an open window, he turned back to the cell, and, going up to Hal, said in a low, voice: "Now, then, is it possible that you do not know me?" Hal stopped twiddling his fingers and looked up at the tall, thin, stooping figure, the gray hair, the white eyebrows and the pale face, and said gruffly: "No! May the demon fly away with me if I ever saw you before!" "Nor you, Dick?" inquired the old man, in a mild voice, turning to the one addressed. "No, burn you, nor want to see you now!" "Steve! Steve!" said the old man, in a pitiful voice, waking the sleeper. "Don't you know me, either?" "Don't bother me," said that worthy, giving himself another turn and another settle to sleep. "Dolts! blockheads! brutes! Do you know me now?" growled the visitor, changing his voice. "Our captain!" "Our captain!" "Our captain!" they simultaneously cried. "Hush! sink your souls! Do you want to bring the warden upon us?" growled Black Donald, for it was unquestionably him in a new metamorphosis.