Chapter Nineteen.
Help from an unexpected Quarter—Plans made for Escape.
With wildly beating hearts, and with no further thoughts for their food, which was tumbled unceremoniously on to the floor, the lads tore open the folded paper, and eagerly scanned its contents. It ran as follows:—
“To the two Englishmen at present imprisoned in the Inquisition at Vera Cruz. It is known all through the city here that the man Alvarez, who calls himself governor of the town and viceroy of the province, intends to have you both burnt alive at an auto-da-fé in the plaza five days from now. It was intended that you should be exhibited and tortured in public here, and sent back to La Guayra for final execution; but the news has come that your countryman, Cavendish, has captured a plate fleet of nineteen ships near Acapulco, and the populace demand that you should both be sacrificed in revenge, to which Alvarez has consented. Unless you can escape before the expiry of the five days you are doomed. There is one chance for you, if you can take it, and I am here to assist you. You can trust me implicitly. I am an English sailor who was made to renounce my religion through torture, and I am now in service here; but I have not forgotten my country. To escape, you must contrive to lower a thin cord from the window, the thinner the better, so that I can communicate with and send small articles to you. Leave this cord hanging from your window, at midnight on the third night from now, without fail; I can do nothing until then. I have contrived to get this message concealed in your food on this one occasion, but I shall never be able to do so again. So you must somehow or another manage to lower to the ground the thin cord of which I told you. Without that I cannot aid you.
“I shall wait here for a time, so that you can throw down a note saying you have received my message; but say no more besides that. If I do not hear from you now, I shall return on the third night, and the cord must be in its place by then. For the present, farewell!
“From a true friend.”
This was a long message; but the man who wrote it had done so in such small letters that it occupied but little space. So small, indeed, was the writing that it was as much as they could do to decipher it.
When they had finishing reading this remarkable communication, the lads looked at each other for a moment in utter amazement.
Suddenly Roger ejaculated: “Ah, of course! Now I have it, Harry! The man that we saw waiting below the window—he was the person who wrote this; and he was waiting for the answer, as he said in the note. That is why he seemed to expect us to throw him something. Oh, why, why did we not think of looking sooner? But, of course, we expected nothing of the kind. Anyhow he says he will return on the third night from now. But where, Harry, are we going to get that cord that he wants us to hang from the window? Our escape hinges upon our getting it; and yet—where is it to come from? It is utterly impossible for us to get hold of a cord or line of any sort, so far as I can see. I wonder who the fellow is; and can we trust him?”
“Well,” replied Harry, “you saw what he wrote in that message. In five days from now, unless we can meanwhile escape, we are doomed to die an awful death. The man would, I should say, have no object in betraying us; because, if we are already sentenced to death, they do not need any excuse for executing us. And I do not see what the man has to gain by deceiving us. No, Roger, I think the man is genuine enough; and in any case, if we are to suffer death, we may as well die in the attempt to escape as wait here for death to come to us. Is it not so, my friend?
“But perhaps we had better put off the further discussion of this until we have eaten the food. If, when they come to put in our next supply, they find this still uneaten, they may suspect that something is amiss, and remove us to another cell, or even separate us; either of which happenings would put an end for good and all to our chances of escape. Besides, we can talk as we are eating. Come, Roger, wake up, man, and fall to! Eat as much as you can, for we shall need all our strength to go through with what is before us.”
Roger saw the wisdom of Harry’s argument, and, replacing the food on the table, whence it had fallen in their eagerness to read the message, they set to, and very soon demolished the whole of it, replacing the platter, as usual, when they had finished, by the side of the trap, to be removed when the next meal was put in.
“Now,” remarked Harry, “let us resume our discussion of this strange business, Roger. So far as I can see, the matter stands— Hullo! what’s that? Did you hear that, Roger?” he suddenly interjected.
“Yes,” replied Roger, “I did. What can it be, I wonder?”
There had come a slight sound from the direction of the grating, as of some hard substance striking against the iron bars.
Both lads hurried to the grating, and glanced up at it; but they could see nothing to account for the sound.
“This is most remarkable,” said Harry. “I heard the sound quite plainly. It was just like two pieces of iron striking together; and it sounded in the cell itself, or just outside the grating. Jump up on my shoulders again, Roger, and see if you can see anything or anybody about.”
Harry bent his back, and helped Roger to climb up on his shoulders. And Roger had just drawn himself upright with his face reaching to the level of the grating, when he uttered a suppressed exclamation, and half-fell, half-slid down to the floor from his perch, and started vigorously rubbing his cheek.
“Whatever is the matter with you, Roger?” ejaculated Harry somewhat crossly; “you nearly broke my back coming down like that.” Then, as he saw Roger rubbing his face, his tone changed, and he enquired anxiously, “What is it, old fellow; are you hurt?”
“No; not much, that is,” rejoined his friend. “Just as I got my head up level with the grating, and was going to look out, something hit me on the cheek with considerable force, and, losing my balance, I came tumbling down. I am sorry if I hurt you, Harry, old lad.”
As he finished speaking, both caught the sound of quick and stealthy footsteps retreating across the courtyard below, and retiring, so far as they could judge by the sound, through the gateway by which the writer of their message had disappeared.
“Ha!” said Harry; “someone has been below our window again. I wonder what it is this time? And what was it that struck you, Roger; could you tell?”
“No,” answered Roger. “I know only that something hit me hard on the cheek, and I thought for the moment that my eye was struck. No, I have not the least idea what it could have been.”
“Could it,” suggested Harry, “have been that fellow whom we saw this morning, come back again with another message; and was he trying to attract our attention, think you?”
“That I cannot say,” answered Roger; “but I certainly heard footsteps disappearing just now. Did not you?”
“Yes, I did,” answered Harry; “but I did not attach very much significance to the matter until the individual had gone. Well, we do not know what it was, and we have no time to waste; so let us give our whole attention to the matter of that message. Have you got the paper? Well, when we have finished with it, you had better hide it away somewhere safely, or, better still, destroy it altogether; for we never know when we may be searched. They may take it into their heads to do so at any moment.”
“Ay, we will do so,” agreed Roger; “’twill, as you say, be safer. But go on with what you were about to say before that interruption came.”
“Well,” resumed Harry, “as I was saying, it seems to stand like this: Alvarez, it would appear, has doomed us to die at an auto-da-fé, five days hence, in order to satisfy the demand of the people of this town for revenge, their desire for which has been aroused by the capture by Mr Cavendish of the plate fleet off Acapulco. This fact is known by everybody in the town, and consequently has come to the ears of this man, who says he is an English sailor.
“I should say that he is probably a man—one of the very few that the Dons have ever taken—captured during some action, and tortured to make him recant. He apparently did so in order to spare himself further pain, as men have done on several occasions, and he is now possibly a serving-man, or something of the kind, in the employ of some Spanish grandee or another. But he has not forgotten the fact that he is an Englishman, and, hearing that two of his fellow-countrymen are to be put to a painful death at an auto-da-fé in the Plaza in five days’ time, has made up his mind to save our lives, if possible. If successful, I should say that he himself will try to get away with us.
“At very considerable risk, and doubtless with great difficulty, he has been able to get one message to us, but will not be able to do so again. So he wishes us to procure a piece of cord thin enough to escape easy detection, and hang it from our window, so that he can communicate with us as may be necessary, and so that he can perhaps send up to us certain small articles. For some reason he cannot come again until three days’ hence, when he will be waiting below our grating at midnight for us to lower the line to him, when we may expect another message, and probably instructions what to do so that we may escape. Why he cannot come until midnight on the third night I cannot guess, but evidently there is something very weighty and important to prevent his doing so, otherwise, knowing that there are but five days altogether before our execution, he would commence at once to arrange for our escape without losing any time; for a delay of three days now may make all the difference whether we are to live or die.
“All this we learn from his letter; and my opinion is that we must just trust this man, and hope that he will be able to succeed in his efforts; for until we hear again from him, as to what he wishes us to do to assist him, we can do nothing—absolutely nothing. Now, the first difficulty that confronts us is the matter of that line of which he speaks, and without which, he tells us, escape is impossible. How in the world can we secure a rope or cord of any sort? We never even see our jailer, much less talk to him, so that we have no opportunity of attempting to bribe him, and it is most unlikely that we could do so, even if we could speak to him. There is nothing in the cell that we can possibly turn to account; so I do not see at all what we can do. It seems very hard to lose our lives just because we are at a loss for a small thing like a piece of cord or rope.”
“For my own part,” said Roger, “I wonder somewhat why the man did not make some suggestion as to how we might secure such a thing. Surely he must know that it is utterly impossible for us to procure anything of the kind in prison. I wonder, now, whether that was he or not whose footsteps we heard in the yard a little time ago; and what— Why, Harry, what if that thing that hit me in the face should be another message wrapped round something to make it carry up to the window?”
“Roger,” exclaimed Harry in great jubilation, “I believe you have hit upon the very thing. The man said he could not get another message conveyed for him. The cord is not in position so that he can send anything up by that. What more likely than that he should try to throw a note up to us through the bars? In fact it is the only way. Let us look at once. It must have fallen somewhere in the cell, I should say, since it struck you in the face. That fact shows that it came between the bars; and it would hardly rebound outside again.”
And in the now fast-failing light both lads dropped on their hands and knees and began a feverish search for what might very easily make all the difference to them between living and dying a horrible and painful death. Hound and round the fast-darkening cell they crawled, but not a sign of anything could they find, until Harry, who was searching a corner where the faint light from the grating could not reach, suddenly placed his hand upon something hard, which rolled under the pressure. Clasping it tight in his fist, he rushed to the grating and looked at the article. Yes, sure enough, it was a piece of paper wrapped round a pebble. He softly called Roger to his side, and, opening the folded missive, both began to read. And, as they read, both faces became several shades paler, and their hearts beat thickly. The note ran as follows:—
“I waited for some time below your window in the hope that you would drop an answer from it to my first letter; but I found that I was being watched, and had therefore to leave. How I shall get this present note to you I do not know, but if nobody is about I shall wrap it round a stone and try to throw it through your window. This is to tell you that Alvarez has decided to advance the day for your execution, which will take place on the day after to-morrow. Therefore you must act at once. I am myself in great danger through my attempts to help you, and if the date had not been altered should not have come until the third night from now. But there is no time to lose, so I must endeavour to come to you to-night. I may be discovered, but I must risk that. Now, attend well to what I am going to write. At midnight to-night, instead of three nights hence, I shall be here, underneath your window. You must at any cost let down a thin cord, or all my efforts will be vain. I will then attach to the cord several small files and a saw of fine temper. If the line is not strong enough to bear the weight I will tie a light line which I shall bring with me to yours; you will then haul that up first, and, making fast the end, you can then pull up the things I shall bring. If I have any more news then, I will also send up a letter to you. With the files and saw you must cut away all the bars of your grating except one. This will leave room for you to climb through. The one bar must be left to secure a stout rope to, so that you may slide down it. The work of cutting the bars will take you all to-morrow; so after my visit to-night I shall not come again until the time arrives for you to make your escape. Be very careful to work silently, or you will be discovered, for spies are everywhere. When the bars are cut, put them back in their places, so that if anyone enters your cell they shall not notice the change.
“For your first line to lower down to me, unravel your hose or under-jerkin, or any garment you can spare without it being noticed. This will give you a long, thin line, to the end of which you must secure a light weight to prevent it from blowing about. Now, until to-night, farewell! I shall be there at midnight exactly, and you must be quite ready. Make no mistake, for this is your only chance, and any mistake will mean the loss of my life as well as your own.”
This ended the letter, and Roger immediately took it from Harry’s hand, and concealed it, with the first missive, in the lining of his jerkin.
“Now, Harry,” said he, “we must act at once; for, as the fellow says, there is no time to lose, and it will take us all the time we have left before darkness sets in to unravel a garment to form our line. He will send us up several files, he says in the letter. Now, if we can put those two stools one on top of the other we shall both be able to stand on them and work together; which is a fortunate thing, as it will take us a long time to cut those bars, so thick are they. I hope the noise will not be heard through the walls, and draw the attention of our jailers; but we must be as silent as we can, and risk the rest. I am more glad than ever now that we closed up that spy-hole, for, had we not done so, we should certainly have been discovered already. Now, Harry, we had best begin on this under-jerkin of mine; the absence of that will not be noticed if I keep my doublet buttoned well up and over. You begin at one end and I will start at the other corner, so that, if we are pressed for time, we can break the threads off and join yours and mine together, and have twice the length we should get otherwise.”
Roger stripped his jerkin off, replaced his doublet, and both set to work. By this time the daylight had nearly gone, but, as fortune would have it, a full moon rode high in the sky, and one shaft of light filtered in through the barred window. The court below, however, was in darkness, as the walls were so high that the moonbeams never struck lower than about half-way down them. In this small patch of light, then, the two lads worked for their lives.
When they began their task they considered that about three hours would suffice to complete the work. As time passed, however, it seemed to them as though their fingers were made of lead, so slow did they appear to move, to the lads’ excited imagination. Yard by yard the silk became unravelled, and was rolled carefully round Roger’s finger, so that, when the time came, there might be no hitch in paying it out.
Every yard that they unravelled seemed to take them an hour in the process, and so occupied were they that it was some few moments before they became aware that at least two small pebbles had been thrown through the window, and then they only noticed it because one of the stones happened to fall directly upon the remnant of the garment upon which they were employed.
“Roger, Roger, there he is,” whispered Harry in great excitement. “Quick, quick! unwind that silk from your finger, and— Where can we find anything to tie on the end for a weight?” he added.
Roger unwound the silk as fast as he knew how, and Harry desperately searched every nook and cranny of the cell for something to secure to the end.
“I have it,” said Roger in a low tone, as he finished unwinding the silk and coiled it carefully on the stone table, so that it might run free without being entangled. “I have it. We will secure your knife to the end, Harry; it will bear that weight, I should say, and we can haul it up again when the stouter line is attached.”
“Very well,” answered Harry, producing the article in question, which was soon tied firmly to the end of the unravelled silk.
The two stools were then dragged to the window, and on these Roger mounted, whilst Harry handed up the knife with the silk tied to it.
“God grant that the line may bear the weight!” said Roger to himself, as he took the apparatus from Harry.
Then he leant forward and extended his arm so far that any person standing below would be able to see it in the moonlight, although the person himself in the courtyard would be hidden in the shadow cast by the high walls of the prison. He allowed his hand to remain for a few moments, shining white in the moonlight, in order to signify to the man below that he was in readiness, and was prepared to let down the line. As if in answer, another small pebble came clattering against the wall just below the grating, and Roger’s heart stood still for a moment with deadly fear, lest any unwelcome listener might be about.
But there was no sign of such being the case, and the lad lowered carefully away until he felt the knife touch the ground.
A few seconds later he felt a gentle vibration of the silk, as the man below fastened something to it, and then came three light pulls on the line. Roger rightly took this for a signal to haul up, and immediately did so.
He hauled away with the utmost care, for he knew that his very life depended upon it, and when he had hauled in his own line he found attached to it a cord of stouter proportions, and capable of sustaining a very much heavier burden.
To be on the safe side, he at once secured the end of this second line to a bar of the grating, in case it should slip through his fingers, and handed the silken line to Harry, asking him to re-coil it for use again should it be required. Then he gave three light tugs to the line at his end, as a signal that he was ready for the next operation. Immediately he had done so, the gentle movement of the line began again, and was followed directly afterward by the three signal pulls, but stronger ones this time. Up came the cord, and this time it was evident that there was something quite heavy at the other end. Roger pulled up quickly, and presently a dark bundle made its appearance at the window. He grasped this carefully and handed it to Harry, who placed it upon the cell table.
Then the cord was sent down once more. There was a longer pause this time, and Roger was on the point of pulling up the cord, thinking that their unknown friend had finished his part of the business, when the three pulls came again, and Roger once more hoisted away on the line.
It was not so heavy on this occasion, and on taking it in through the window he found that Harry’s knife and a piece of paper were the only articles that were attached.
He surmised, therefore, that nothing else was to be sent up, and read the missive before sending down the cord again. It was short and to the point this time.
It ran thus:—
“I am writing this in the courtyard below. I have sent up all the necessary tools; so you need not lower the cord again to-night. It rests with you now to cut the bars, and it must be done by midnight to-morrow night or all will be in vain. I shall be here again then, and will send up a rope thick enough to bear your weight. You must climb down this, and I will be at the bottom to receive and guide you to safety. Till to-morrow, farewell!”
When this had been read, it was placed, together with the other two missives, in the lining of Roger’s doublet.
“Now, Harry, lad,” the latter whispered, “quick! let us see what there is in this bundle, and then set to work at once. No sleep to-night, my lad. When next we sleep we shall either be out of the clutches of the Inquisition, or—we shall be sleeping the last long sleep of all!”