Up went his hand again. The dashing young staff officer, of whom Lord Wellington already had such a high opinion, looked for the moment just like a Spanish churl. For, recollect, he was still dressed as muleteer, and muleteers wear clothing which compares but badly with the smart uniform of an officer of the staff. Besides, he had been somewhat tumbled about of late. But what did it matter? Even had there been anyone to look on, it was too dark to discover details. Not that Tom could not see. Those ruffians who had interviewed him had taken a lamp to the room, and the man who lay sprawling now had brought a candle, only it had gone sprawling too, and lay guttering and almost out at that moment. Tom picked it up and looked about him. "No use waiting; time's precious," he told himself. "I'll see what can be done with Alfonso's door. Then we'll set things humming." He took the key from the door of his own prison, and, snatching up the candle, stealthily slipped along the passage. There was a door ten feet down it, and the key slid into the lock. But it refused to turn, causing Tom to groan with vexation. He closely inspected the lock then, and stood considering matters. A roar of laughing and loud voices from the farther room, in which the spies were supping, distracted his attention, and in a moment he was back at his own door. Ah! A streak of light burst its way into the passage. The door was opening. Tom instantly slid into his own room, closed the door gently, and locked it from within. Then, putting the candle in the far corner, on the same wall as the door, he waited events. They followed swiftly; for a minute later there came a thunderous blow upon the door, and then a burst of laughter. "Ho, there, within! We come to join a comrade at supper, and to bring him better fare than he has been given--open." It was the voice of the fat man, breathless as if after much effort, a little incoherent, if the truth be told. The laughter was that of men easily roused to merriment, who enjoy a feeble joke, or a saying wanting in wit and point, more thoroughly and longer than it merits. They had been supping, that was the explanation, and conspirators such as these might well be expected to sup wisely, but too freely perhaps. And here seemed to be an example. "Open!" bellowed the fat man, shaking the door violently. "Open!" roared his comrades, lurching against it. "Open and sup with new comrades." "And the key? Does a prisoner, even if he be about to become a new comrade--does he have the key of his prison given into his care?" The note of amusement which Tom managed to fling into his voice caught the fancy of these ruffians. They laughed uproariously, so that for a while not one could make his voice heard. And then one suggested that they should beat the door in. "Aye, beat it in!" gurgled the fat man. "See, I will throw myself against it, and, pish! the thing will fall to the ground."