“Come along, Tim, we must do the rest on foot. You know the ‘Red Lion?’ Well, go there, and tell the landlord I want a horse for a few hours; when you come back I shall be here at this post waiting for you. Be quick, mind, and see that he lends you a good steed, for we have a long way to gallop.” Tim went off on foot towards the “Red Lion.” Wildfire Ned walked rapidly towards that part of the village where the lock-up or round-house was situated. All was darkness and profound quietness in the village. “This is just the time to do the trick,” thought Wildfire Ned. Saying this, he put on a black velvet mask, and walked up to the prison door. It was open. He walked in quietly. Two officers lay on benches before the fire, snoring loudly. They did not hear his footsteps. Ned looked around quickly to ascertain in which of the several cells Bob Bertram was confined. He knew not which. Presently, however, he saw two eyes peering between the iron bars, and from the hard breathing of the prisoner he felt sure it was Bob. Ned made a sign which Bob understood, and then approached the prisoner. “Those are the keys hanging up behind the door,” said Bob, in a soft whisper; “but be careful, Ned, or you will awake them.” On tiptoe Wildfire Ned took down the keys, and approached Bob’s cell. He passed them through to Bob, and while he was turning the bolt of the lock Wildfire Ned stood over the two sleeping officers, pistol in hand. “If they should wake up while Bob is getting out, these two little bulldogs will keep them quiet,” thought Ned. He had not thus stood guard over the two slumberers many minutes ere Bob Bertram was free. “Fly,” said Ned, “towards the Hall; you’ll find the horses waiting for us on the roadside near the finger posts.” Young Bertram had scarcely quitted the prison ere the two officers awoke. They opened their eyes very slowly, but when they discovered the young man in the mask standing over them, pistol in hand, they rolled their eyes, and gaped in astonishment and wonder. “Oh, lors!” “Who are you?” “Put down them pistols.” “What do you want?” “Did you not expect some officers from London?” “We did; but, for the lor’s sake, don’t put the muzzle of that pistol so near my head, it might go off.” “I am one of them,” said Ned, scarcely able to keep from laughing, “and have a very disagreeable duty to perform.” “What is it?” “My comrades called here, and found you asleep. We took the prisoner in our own charge, and my duty here is to lock both of you up.” “Lock _us_ up?” “Yes, both of you, and to feed you on bread and water for a month, for not attending to your duty.” “It warn’t _my_ fault; it were _his_ watch,” said one. “No quarrelling,” said Ned, grinning under his mask; “rise, both of you; Bob Bertram’s cell is now open and empty; go into it, both of ye, and this instant, knaves, or I’ll drive holes into each of you.”