Phil heard it as I did, and we two sprang to the gratings once more, expecting, hoping, to hear the voices of our messmates.
Everything was silent, and I stood there like a simple fully thirty seconds before gathering sufficient sense to speak. Then I cried softly:—
"Essex ahoy!"
"Ahoy in the shanty!" a voice replied, and I sank to my knees in fervent thanksgiving, for I recognized the tones of Master Hackett. Now, even though we might not be released, it would be known aboard ship that we had not deserted.
"Where are you?" the old seaman asked in a loud whisper, after remaining silent a few seconds.
"At a window just above the height of the wall," Phil replied, and then a happy thought came to me.
"We've got a half-inch rope here, Master Hackett, and can let it down if perchance you might be able to use it."
"If an old shellback like me can't use a rope, I'd like to see the man who can. Let it down, lads, an' move lively, for I've had hard work to keep out of the course of a British cub who's been actin' in a way that don't seem honest."
While he spoke I was lowering the rope over the wall, and when Master Hackett sung out that he had it, we belayed the remaining portion to a couple of the bars, knowing full well that the old man would soon appear at the top of the wall unless some one on the street interfered with him.