"What number of guns?—how can you get out?"
"Thirty-six guns.—I have the means."
"Trente-six canons."
"Trente-six canons," repeated the Frenchman, writing; "c'est bien—alors, l'équipage."
"How many men?—I will be here at dark."
"Two hundred and seventy men; but many away in prizes."
"Deux cents soixante-dix hommes-d'équipage; mais il y a beaucoup dans les bâtimens pris."
Newton and the others were also interrogated, the names taken down, and the parties then quitted the prison.
"Now, if we make a push for it, I think we may get off," said Collins to Newton and the rest, after the door had closed. "I never saw the prison in England which could hold me when I felt inclined to walk out of it; and as for their bars, I reckon them at about an hour's work. I never travel without my little friends;"—and Collins, taking off his old hat, removed the lining, and produced a variety of small saws made from watch-springs, files, and other instruments. "Then," continued he, "with these, and this piece of tallow stuck outside my hat, I will be through those bars in no time. French iron ar'n't worth a d—n, and the sentry sha'n't hear me if he lolls against them; although it may be just as well if Thompson tips us a stave, as then we may work the faster."
"I say, Bill," observed Hillson, "who is your friend?"