The hole had been pasted over with sheets of white drawing paper, smeared with prison gruel, which made admirable glue; and these, when powdered over with the white dust of the stone, became not an imitation but a fac simile.
An exclamation of surprise proceeded from the turnkeys and their chief.
“Ah!” exclaimed the latter, “we now know the reason for the pirate being so disturbed at night. This is no more than I expected. We have made the discovery in good time.”
“It has been cleverly managed, sir,” observed one of the turnkeys.
“Certainly, very clever indeed; but all is of no avail.”
The three prison officials, however, could not refrain from admiring the masterpiece of industry and art. They remained for some time examining the aperture in the wall.
Presently the governor turned towards Chudley, who sat on his little stool the very personification of despair, and said in a severe tone—
“Since you have been under my charge you have had every indulgence it was possible for me to give, consistent with my duty as governor of this prison. What return have you made for this? The answer is but too apparent. With the basest ingratitude for all the kindness shown to you, without the slightest consideration for me, you have striven secretly to effect your escape. Had you succeeded I should have been disgraced and severely censured. You are a worthless fellow.”
“I be sorry for what I ha’ done, and ask you to forgive me, but for all that I be doubly sorry that I ha’ bin found out. Liberty is sweet, but it aint o’ no yoose talking about that now,” returned Chudley.
“I will take good care another such an opportunity is not afforded you. Henceforth you will be confined in a stronger and more commodious cell, and I warn you not to make another attempt to escape; indeed, it will be my duty to see you have no chance of doing so. Dogs that bite us when we fondle them must go to dirty kennels and rusty chains. Dixon, you have your orders.”