"Had they not better draw lots?"
"Yes," said Sim, enthusiastically.
"Not if I knows it," said Big Harry, thrusting his hands further into
his pockets.
"Say the plan ower again, mun," said Banks, in a low voice. "No
mouthin', but joost the plan."
"To climb in at the little window."
"Yes."
"Lay the powther under the middle wall."
"Yes."
"Break open the staves to let it out--lay a good train--light a slow
match close to the leather (ladder)."
"Yes."
"Run up and get out as you got in."
"Yes," said Joe Banks, softly, "or die."
"And you understand?"
"Yes."
"And the wucks 'll be blown to atoms."
"And what are we to do for wuck then?" said Big Harry.
"You great maulkin, you get no wuck now," cried Sim; and the big fellow
grunted and looked uncomfortable.
"And you will do all this, Sim Slee?" said Banks quietly.
"Who? I?" cried Sim, shrinking away.
Joe Banks looked at him contemptuously, and then turned to the men.
"I'll do it, my lads," he said. "No one knows the old plaace as I know
it, and if it's to be blown down, mine's the hand as shall do it.
Thuzday night? Good! Be three or four of you theer with the powther
under the window, and I'll be ready to tak' it in."
There was a burst of applause at this, and the meeting broke up, the
folded flags being carefully buttoned up in Barker's breast, while Sim
Slee walked stiffly home, with a sword down each leg of his trousers,
and the hilts under his scarlet waistcoat, beneath his arms.
Volume 3, Chapter V.