That was Deschamps’ voice. Doubtless he had observed that two bars were missing from the window. Archie heard the key slipped into the lock and the door creak on its hinges. All the time he knew that Skipper Bill was crouched in the shadow––poised for the spring. The boy no longer thought of the predicament as a game. Nor was he inclined to laugh again. This was the ugly reality once more come to face him. There would be a fight in the cell. This he knew. And he waited in terror of the issue.
There was a quick step––a crash––a quick-drawn breath––the noise of a shock––a cry––a groan. Skipper Bill had kicked the door to and leaped upon the jailer. Archie pried the third bar out and broke the fourth with a blow. Then he squirmed through the window. Even in that dim light––half the night light without––he could see that the struggle was over. Skipper Bill had Deschamps by the throat with his great right hand. He had the jailer’s waist in his left arm as in a vise, and was forcing his head 169 back––back––back––until Archie thought the Frenchman’s spine would crack.
“Don’t kill him!” Archie cried.
Skipper Bill had no intention of doing so; nor had Deschamps, the wrestler, any idea of allowing his back to be broken.
“Don’t kill him!” Archie begged again.
Deschamps was tugging at that right arm of iron––weakly, vainly tugging to wrench it away from his throat. His eyes were starting from their sockets, and his tongue protruded. Back went the head––back––back! The arm was pitiless. Back––back! He was fordone. In a moment his strength departed and he collapsed. He had not had time to call for help, so quick had been Bill’s hand. They bound his limp body with the length of line Josiah had brought, and they had no sooner bound him than he revived.
“You are a great man, monsieur,” he mumbled. “You have vanquished me––Deschamps! You will be famous––famous, monsieur. I shall send my resignation to His Excellency the Governor to-morrow. Deschamps––he is vanquished!”
“What’s he talkin’ about?” the skipper panted. 170
“You have beaten him.”
“Let’s be off, b’y,” the skipper gasped.