“Will that do, think you?” he asked.
“I’ll make it do for the brickwork, though, the good Lord knows, I may need a pick and shovel for anything this bricked-up door tells me of what is beyond it. But never mind; go you and do your part, Sergeant. And one other thing: Captain Sprigg has either gone to sea, or is about to go, as I have told you, and his errand is to convey two women home to Virginia. One of those women is my cousin, and the other—”
“The other will be somewhat more than a cousin, if you live to get free of this: I take you, Captain.”
“Good. Then you will see to it yourself that whatever may be done toward helping me, there must be a sufficient guard left to protect the women. That is all, I believe, though I would give much for a weapon of some sort bigger than this pocket-knife to even me with those who will seek to stop me after I burrow out.”
At that Champe unbuttoned his great watchcoat and showed me my good Scots rapier hanging by a thong around his neck; and I could have shouted for joy.
“Where did you find it?—and how could you pass the guard with it?” I demanded.
“I found it in the barracks, where one of Warnock’s men had flung it aside,” he explained. “I thought first to bring your own horse-saber, which I was wearing, but Warnock made me put it away before he would let me see you. I did put it away, but I hid this other in my coat at the same time.”
With midnight coming nearer at every breath we drew, I gave Champe his final word.
“Do your errand quickly, Sergeant,” I adjured him. “On two counts you have little time to spare: Sprigg’s vessel, if it be not already gone, will be ready to go at any minute; and after all you may be too late. The other count is your own. You will be ordered to rejoin the legion before the night is out; I have Arnold’s own word for that.”
“They’ll not take me down the bay alive before my errand is done; I promise you that, Captain Dick.”