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Book, page 331 / 462 The commanding air with which Archer spoke and looked, and the belief that the little boy deserved his protection, silenced the crowd. But the storm was only hushed. No sound of merriment was now to be heard--no battledore and shuttlecock- -no ball, no marbles. Some sat in a corner, whispering their wishes that Archer would unbar the doors, and give up. Others, stretching their arms, and gaping as they sauntered up and down the room, wished for air, or food, or water. Fisher and his nine, who had such firm dependence upon the gipsy, now gave themselves up to utter despair. It was eight o'clock, growing darker and darker every minute, and no candles, no light could they have. The prospect of another long dark night made them still more discontented. Townsend, at the head of the yawners, and Fisher, at the head of the hungry malcontents, gathered round Archer and the few yet unconquered spirits, demanding "How long he meant to keep them in this dark dungeon? and whether he expected that they should starve themselves for his sake?" The idea of GIVING UP was more intolerable to Archer than all the rest. He saw that the majority, his own convincing argument, was against him. He was therefore obliged to condescend to the arts of persuasion. He flattered some with hopes of food from the town boys. Some he reminded of their promises; others he praised for former prowess; and others he shamed by the repetition of their high vaunts in the beginning of the business. It was at length resolved that at all events they WOULD HOLD OUT. With this determination they stretched themselves again to sleep, for the second night, in weak and weary obstinacy. Archer slept longer and more soundly than usual the next morning, and when he awoke, he found his hands tied behind him! Three or four boys had just got hold of his feet, which they pressed down, whilst the trembling hands of Fisher were fastening the cord round them. With all the force which rage could inspire, Archer struggled and roared to "HIS ARCHERS!"--his friends, his party--for help against the traitors. But all kept aloof. Townsend, in particular, stood laughing and looking on. "I beg your pardon, Archer, but really you look so droll. All alive
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