He was surrounded by the formidable walls of the West Kalbertan Battery, and, even should he be able to scale the ramparts and evade the sentries, there was not a place of shelter in the whole of Sandinsel where he could hope to remain hidden for even an hour.
"The Monte Cristo wheeze is played out," he mused. "It might be possible to knock down the jailer and put on his clothes, if it were not for the fact that there are always two men waiting outside. Besides, there is the password, which I haven't got. That suggestion is no good. I remember reading of an authentic case of a man in a debtor's jail getting hold of a strip of raw liver and laying it across his throat. The jailer, thinking his prisoner had put an end to himself, ran out of the cell, and in his fright forgot to close and lock the door. The prisoner made good his escape. That was a neat trick; but then that was not within the walls of a modern fortress. It's a case of wait and see, only with more of the waiting and considerably less of the seeing, I fancy."
Yet he did not fall a victim to black despair. He was eminently of a very sanguine disposition, and, recognizing the truth of the saying that "while there's life there's hope", he made up his mind to keep bodily fit, so as to be able to take full advantage of any chance that fortune might throw in his way.
The Sub looked about him for some object to practise with. The chair caught his attention. It was a solid oak one with a rush bottom, just the thing to use as a bar bell and keep his muscles pliant.
His still tender fingers caused him some misgiving, but with very little effort he raised the chair above his head. To his great delight he found that the stiffness of his neck and shoulders was hardly noticeable.
Up and down he swung the chair. For one thing, it killed time; it also kept him in training. He revelled in the exertion.
Suddenly the door opened, and the soldier detailed to act as his jailer entered. Hamerton faced round, his improvised gymnastic apparatus still poised above his head.
With a yell the fellow dropped the earthenware basin on the floor and backed hurriedly out of the door, shouting at the top of his voice that the Englishman had gone mad.
A picket was hastily told off, and, accompanied by the fair-haired lieutenant and a surgeon, the soldiers entered the Sub's room, to find Hamerton calmly sitting on the chair.
"Is this the way you promise to behave?" questioned the lieutenant. "What have you done?"