“Yes,” answered Roger, “let me get on your shoulders at once, Harry; this may be an important matter. Perchance it may be someone who is willing to help us to escape, and wishes to communicate with us.”
Harry immediately helped his chum up to his own former position. Roger stood there for some considerable time, looking out, and then whispered to Harry to let him descend.
“Well, did you see him?” enquired Harry, when Roger had got down.
“Yes,” replied Roger. “I just caught a glimpse of him as he vanished. He seemed to be a ragged sort of fellow, so far as I could make out. I wish he had
remained a little longer; but I suspect that something must have alarmed him, and so caused him to move away. I wonder what it is he wanted! Are you certain that it was to you he was making those signs?”
“Quite certain,” Harry answered. “He was looking directly at me; and when he saw that I had noticed him, he, as I said, held out his hands—so—as though to catch something that I was to throw out. But what could he have wanted us to give him? There is nothing in this cell which we could fling to him, except our meal, which, by the way, we have not yet touched. I wonder if he expected us to write anything, and throw it out to him!”
“I don’t see how he could expect that,” said Roger. “If we had not chanced to look out, we should never have been aware that he was there; so why should we have anything to write to an individual of whose existence we were unaware until a few moments ago?”
“True,” responded Harry. “I cannot make it out at all. Did you notice which way he went?”
“Yes,” answered Roger, “I did notice that. You know that the court below is enclosed by those four walls of the building? Well, there is a small gateway on the right-hand side looking from here, in the wall directly opposite, and I was just in time to see him vanish through that. It may be that he will return again, however. If it is really some person who is anxious to assist us to escape—and I cannot imagine that it would be any other—he will be sure to come back as soon as it is safe for him to do so. But I must confess that I cannot understand why he seemed to be waiting for a message. If he had been trying to get a paper or message to us it would have been a different matter; for the first arrangements for escape must come from outside, and not from us. We could do nothing without first learning what arrangements can be made by our supposititious friend outside. Left to ourselves, we can contrive no plan of escape. But the man has disappeared for the time being, and we can do naught until we get into communication with him, so let us get on with that cipher. I have found something that will do nicely for a pen. While I was standing on your shoulders, and after the mysterious man had gone, I had a look among that stuff on the window-sill, and was lucky enough to find this feather. It has been a long time there, judging by its appearance, and must have been dropped by some bird which by this time is doubtless dead. I should say that some other prisoner was once in the habit of feeding birds from this grating; and probably it was one of them that dropped this feather, which will be of so much service to us. We can cut it into a pen, and I will now tell you where we can find our ink. Just take this knife of yours, make a small cut in my arm, and—there is plenty of ink for us, although it is red; but that does not matter.”