The man had noticed the flagstaff on which during the day the Ottoman flag had been flying. At sunset the Crescent flag had been struck, but instead of untoggling it from the halyards the indolent Turk to whom the duty was entrusted had merely rolled the bunting and secured it to the pole by a bight of the cords.
The sailor deftly detached the flag from the halyards, then, unshipping the twenty-foot pole from its sockets, lowered it to the ground. Half a minute later, with the captured Ottoman ensign rolled round his waist, he rejoined the midshipman.
"Here we are, sir!" he exclaimed. "All we've to do is to push one end of this bloomin' pole up the trap-door and I'll soon swarm up."
Not without considerable difficulty, the midshipman and the seaman succeeded in getting the stout "stick" into the lowermost room of the tower. When set on end it projected from beyond the opening in the vaulted roof.
"I won't be long, sir," declared the man confidently, as he moistened his horny palms prior to climbing the pole. "If you'd let me have your pistol, sir, as you suggested——"
Just then another seaman burst into the room.
"Mr. Crosthwaite's compliments, sir," he exclaimed, saluting the midshipman, "and he would like to know if you've liberated the prisoners yet. We've got a hard job to keep the enemy back. They've made two attempts to rush us."
"Ask him to give me five minutes more," replied Farnworth.
By this time the climber had disappeared through the opening. The deafening report of the midshipman's revolver told that its borrower had blown off the lock of one of the doors, and before the second shot rang out five of the prisoners were sliding down the sole means of communication with the ground.
One of them, possessing himself of the wounded man's rifle and ammunition, dashed out to assist in holding back the Turkish troops. The others, under the midshipman's orders, hastened to the pier-head to obtain the rifles of the two boat-keepers, for every available armed man was needed to fight a rear-guard action.