Suddenly, a group of soldiers appeared at our front door. They were holding heavy guns. At exactly the same time, Mrs. Joe came back into the kitchen empty-handed. She stopped and stared in shock.
"Goodness me!" she cried. "Where is the pie?"
The dinner guests stood up in surprise. A sergeant stepped into the room. He looked at the group and held out a pair of iron handcuffs. "Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen," he said, "but I am looking for the blacksmith."
"Why do you want him?" asked my sister angrily.
"We have a broken lock on these handcuffs," the sergeant explained. "We need him to fix them quickly. We are looking for two escaped prisoners on the marshes."
Joe took off his nice coat, put on his leather apron, and went into his workroom to light the fire. While he worked, the soldiers waited in the kitchen. My sister gave them beer, and Mr. Pumblechook proudly shared his wine with the sergeant. Everyone was very excited about the hunt for the two prisoners. However, I felt terrified. I thought about my hungry friend on the marshes. Was he going to be caught?
Finally, the handcuffs were ready. Joe wanted to see what would happen, so he asked if we could go with the soldiers. Mr. Wopsle decided to come, too. Mrs. Joe agreed, but she told Joe to keep me safe.
We walked out into the cold, dark afternoon. A bitter wind blew, and freezing rain fell on us. Because the ground was muddy and hard to walk on, Joe carried me on his back. The soldiers walked in front of us in a long line.
As we went deeper into the wild marshes, my heart was beating as loudly as a blacksmith’s hammer. I was full of fear. If we found my convict, would he think I had brought the soldiers? Would he believe that I had betrayed him?
Suddenly, the soldiers stopped. The wind carried the sound of a long, loud shout. Then, we heard another shout. The sergeant gave an order, and the soldiers started to run towards the noise. Joe ran after them, holding me tightly.
Soon, we could hear two angry voices.
"Murder!" shouted one voice.
"Convicts! Runaways! Guards, over here!" shouted the other.
The soldiers ran quickly towards a deep, muddy ditch. The sergeant jumped in first. "Stop fighting!" he panted. "Surrender, both of you!"
Water splashed, and mud flew everywhere. More soldiers jumped into the ditch to help. Finally, they pulled out two men. They were bleeding, covered in mud, and fighting wildly. I recognized them both immediately. One was my convict, and the other was the man I had seen hiding earlier that morning.
"Look!" shouted my convict. He wiped blood from his dirty face. "I caught him! I am giving him up to you! Remember that!"
"It doesn’t matter," the sergeant said calmly. "You are a prisoner too. Put the handcuffs on them!"
"He tried to murder me!" cried the second convict. His face was white with fear, and he was shaking.
"Murder him?" my convict laughed angrily. "If I wanted to kill him, I would have done it! I dragged him back here. I could have run away and escaped. But when I found out he was here, I decided to catch him instead. He is a born liar and a terrible villain!"
The second man looked terrified. "He tried to murder me," he repeated quietly.
"Enough!" said the sergeant. "Light the torches. We are moving."
It was completely dark now. The soldiers lit thick wooden torches, and the bright orange fire lit up the black night. We started to walk towards the river. The two prisoners walked in the middle of the soldiers. They were tired and badly hurt, so we had to halt several times to let them rest.
After an hour, we reached a rough wooden hut near the water. Inside, there was a warm fire and a few sleeping soldiers. The second convict was taken away first to a waiting boat.
My convict stood near the fire. He had not looked at me the whole time. I had tried to look at him to show I was innocent, but he did not seem to notice me. But suddenly, he turned to the sergeant.
"I want to say something," the convict said slowly. "I don't want anyone else to get in trouble because of me. I stole some food today from the village."
"You mean you stole it," said the sergeant.
"Yes. I stole it from the blacksmith's house."
"Hello!" said the sergeant, looking at Joe in surprise.
"It was some food, some drink, and a pie," the convict added.
"Did you lose a pie today, blacksmith?" the sergeant asked.
"My wife noticed it was missing just as you arrived," Joe answered.
The convict looked at Joe. "So, you're the blacksmith? Then I am sorry to say, I ate your pie."
Joe looked at the poor, dirty man with kind eyes. "You are welcome to it," Joe said gently. "We don't know what bad things you have done, but we wouldn't want you to starve to death. Would we, Pip?"
I heard a strange, emotional sound in the convict's throat. Then, he turned his back to us.
The guards took him out into the cold night. We followed them to the edge of the river. By the light of the torches, I saw a huge, black prison ship in the water. It looked like a wicked, dark animal waiting in the mud. The convict got into a small boat, and the guards rowed him away to the ship. When he was gone, the soldiers threw their burning torches into the dark water, and the lights went out.