CHAPTER XXXIII.
YOUNG JACK AND HIS COMRADE HARRY GIRDWOOD—DEAD OR ALIVE—THE
RIDDLE UNRAVELLED—THE PLAN IN CYPHER—A RELIC OF THE
PAST—EUREKA!—THE CYPHER UNRAVELLED.
Now for young Jack.
Once more let us see the bold young Harkaway and Harry, his brave comrade.
Too long have we been absent from them.
Too long have we been forced by the exigencies of our history to leave, not only the Harkaway family and party generally, under the cruel impression that the two boys had been foully murdered, but the reader likewise.
They lived.
Aye, it was every word true that Theodora had said.
Sebastian was not a wit less truthful.
When he opened the door of the cell in the tower, he fully expected to find the two boys there.
Where were they?
By what jugglery had they contrived to get out of such a formidable fortress as that place?
This the present chapter is to relate.
To give it clearly, however briefly, we must go back to the day of their entrance into their gloomy prison home.
Jack and Harry were alone.
"This is a rum go, Jack," said Harry Girdwood. "What do you think of it?"
"Precious dull, old boy," grumbled young Harkaway.
"Better than a grave on the mountain side."
"It is just that," said young Jack. "But it wouldn't be quite so good if this sort of thing was meant to be permanent."
"Growler, growler," said Harry Girdwood. "Why, I call these famous diggings, after that hole they meant us to rest in while the worms made meat of us. Besides, we must get away."
"How?"
"Escape."
Young Jack looked up at the word, and his heart beat a little quicker.
But he said nothing.
Frowning walls on every side.
The cell was fully eighteen feet high, and the window was close up by the ceiling.
"If we want to get out of this," said young Jack, "we must begin operations from this moment."
"Good."
"Do you know, Harry, what is to be the first step?"
"No."
"To get at that window."
"But it is about eighteen feet high."
"Well, we must reach it," said young Jack.
Both boys were expert gymnasts.
The greasiest of greasy poles were vanquished by either with the greatest of ease.
In the stormiest weather they could mount into the topmost parts of the rigging on board ship.
And the consequence was that the morning after their entrance into their prison found young Jack perched up at the window, looking down at his comrade and fellow-prisoner, and giving graphic descriptions of all he saw there.
"What's on the other side, Jack?"
"The sea, the open sea, old fellow," cried Jack.
"And below?"
"The sea, again, old fellow."
"To the right?"
"The sea, the sea—the open sea, old fellow. Water, water, everywhere, and not a drop to drink. At least it would be an awful drop to get at it."
"Can you see any thing to the right?"
"Water only."
"Is that all?"
"Yes—hallo!"
Some thing fell.
A roll of some thing white and soft dropped at Harry Girdwood's feet, and he hastened to pick it up.
Some thing white, we said.
Well, it had once been white, but now it had got very considerably discoloured with age and dust, which seemed to indicate that it had been a long while up on the shelf in its hiding place.
Yes, its hiding place.
They opened the bundle, and found it to be composed of three slips of cotton, upon which were written, in red ink, curious things which they could not make much of.
Upon one of these pieces of cotton were certain cabalistic signs, such as figures, algebraical marks, and geometrical figures.
Upon another was traced a plan of some building.
A third was a sectional view, drawn roughly, but upon architectural principles, and marked with initial letters of reference.
"This is a rum go," said Harry Girdwood, laughing.
Young Jack had dropped from his perch and joined his fellow-prisoner on terra firma, and together they poured over these singular rags.
Now young Harkaway soon lost patience, and speaking contemptuously of their find, he proposed pitching it through the grated window into the sea.
"Not I," said Harry; "there's some thing here which it will amuse me to puzzle out."
"If you like to kill time that way, Harry," answered young Jack, laughing, "no harm; there's plenty of time to kill in this dreadful dungeon."
And puzzle over this precious treasure Harry did.
The cloth upon which were the cabalistic signs was headed with certain words, which were all but illegible, and this he managed to construe.
"Simple cypher, left in hopes that it may yet serve some unfortunate Englishman to escape from the tender mercies of this hole."
Below this were the following figures and signs—
3. 15. 21. 14. 20.—6. 15. 21. 18.—19. 20. 15. 14. 5. 19.—21.
16.—6. 18. 15. 13.—7. 18. 15. 21. 14. 4.—20. 23.
15.—6. 15. 21. 18.—19. 9. 4. 5.—15. 6.—3. 8. 9.
Neath)
13. 14. 5. 25.— > C.—23.
Press)
it.
8. 1. 20.—9. 19—
revealed.
Now when Harry Girdwood had got through the above puzzle once or twice, he was in a regular fog. The only result was to get himself heartily laughed at by his fellow-prisoner.
So Harry Girdwood kept what he knew of the matter to himself.
Upon that same day towards sundown, when Sebastian came round to bring their food, Harry Girdwood said—
"We are not the first Englishmen who have been here, my friend."
Sebastian gave him a sharp glance, as he answered—
"How do you know that?"
"There is no mystery in it," replied Harry Girdwood; "I saw some words written in pencil upon the wall."
"Where?"
The eagerness of his manner aroused the curiosity of both the boys.
"Somewhere here," replied Harry, pretending to seek for the marks upon the wall.
But of course he found nothing.
"It is strange," he said, still looking about; "for I made sure it was hereabouts somewhere. I saw some words which made me sure that it was occupied by an Englishman once."
"You are right," replied Sebastian; "quite right. An Englishman named Terence Dougherty—"
"That Englishman was Irish," said young Jack.
"Possibly; but he was a priest. He was confined here for a long while. So long that he went mad."
"Mad, did you say?"
"Yes, and raving at last; his madness appeared to have so much method in it that it quite deceived our head doctor."
"How did he deceive the head doctor?"
"By his apparent sanity. He was mad as a March hare, and he used to rave about having discovered the way out of the prison."
The two boys pricked up their ears at this speech.
"What was more natural?" said Sebastian. "A prisoner is always thinking how he can get away."
"Of course."
"And yet," said Sebastian, "the old priest was sure he had discovered the way to elude our vigilance when he chose to put his plan into execution; and his dying words startled us."
"How?"
"He said to the doctor within twenty minutes of drawing his last breath—'Doctor, you think I am mad. Not a bit of it, and I tell you that I have given my life to the study of prison breaking—getting out of this particular cell—and, doctor, I should have got out if the great commander death had not ordered me off by another route. As it is, I leave my work for the benefit of the first Briton who shall fall into your claws and drop into my cell, and then—mark me well—he'll profit by my work, unless he be a greater fool than you have taken me to be, and get away."
"He was very mad," said young Harkaway.
"Very."
Harry Girdwood said nothing.
* * * * *
They were alone.
Young Jack was full of deep and serious thought.
Harry Girdwood arose suddenly from his puzzle.
"Eureka!" he cried; "I have discovered it."
"What?" demanded the startled Jack.
"The cypher. It is alphabetical. Listen here."
Young Jack approached.
"It is clear as daylight," said Harry; "these figures correspond with the letters of the alphabet."
"'Count four stones up from ground. Two from side of chimney. Press underneath. See what is revealed under it.'"
"Hurrah!" cried young Jack.
"Hurrah!" yelled Harry Girdwood; "but stop. Let us see if there is any thing in it, for we may yet escape."