Accordingly, he pulled two or three to waken them. “Come, Townsend, waken, my boy! Here’s some diversion for you—up! up!” “Diversion!” cried Townsend; “I’m your man! I’m up—_up to anything_.” So, under the name of _diversion_, Archer set Townsend to work at four o’clock in the morning. They had nails, a few tools, and several spars, still left from the wreck of the playhouse. These, by Archer’s directions, they sharpened at one end, and nailed them to the ends of several forms. All hands were now called to clear away the supper things, to erect these forms perpendicularly under the trap-door; and with the assistance of a few braces, a _chevaux-de-frise_ was formed, upon which nobody could venture to descend. At the farthest end of the room they likewise formed a penthouse of the tables, under which they proposed to breakfast, secure from the pelting storm, if it should again assail them through the trap-door. They crowded under the penthouse as soon as it was ready, and their admiration of its ingenuity paid the workmen for the job. “Lord! I shall like to see the gardener’s phiz through the trap-door, when he beholds the spikes under him!” cried Townsend. “Now for breakfast!” “Ay, now for breakfast,” said Archer, looking at his watch; “past eight o’clock, and my town boys not come! I don’t understand this!” Archer had expected a constant supply of provisions from two boys who lived in the town, who were cousins of his, and who had promised to come every day, and put food in at a certain hole in the wall, in which a ventilator usually turned. This ventilator Archer had taken down, and had contrived it so that it could be easily removed and replaced at pleasure; but, upon examination, it was now perceived that the hole had been newly stopped up by an iron back, which it was impossible to penetrate or remove. “It never came into my head that anybody would ever have thought of the ventilator but myself!” exclaimed Archer, in great perplexity. He listened and waited for his cousins; but no cousins came, and at a late hour the company were obliged to breakfast upon the scattered fragments of the last night’s feast. That feast had been spread with such imprudent profusion, that little now remained to satisfy the hungry guests. Archer, who well knew the effect which the apprehension of a scarcity would have upon his associates, did everything that could be done by a bold countenance and reiterated assertions to persuade them that his cousins would certainly come at last and that the supplies were only delayed. The delay, however, was alarming.