“Aye, aye, sir!” Harry replied. He was so excited over being at once a shipwrecked mariner and a prisoner in a celebrated old castle, that it was well for him to have something to do.
With the sandwiches in their hands they strolled among the dismal cells, finding something on every hand to interest them. Afterward they went out to explore the island outside the castle walls, and found caves made by the angry water, and in several places steps cut in the rock, where small boats could land passengers. When the first signs of dusk appeared they returned to the castle; and Kit in wandering about found two things that excited his curiosity.
“There are some locked doors down on the ground tier,” he said to the Captain, “that may lead to places of interest. And I have found a very small narrow cell, hardly high enough for a man to stand up in, without any window at all. I wonder what that can have been for.”
“I don’t know about the locked doors,” the Captain answered, “but most likely they lead to the rooms occupied by the people who take care of the place. There must be somebody in charge of it, and they may have gone ashore and been kept there by the storm. It is very natural that they should lock the doors of their rooms on going away. The small dark cell that you have discovered, however, was the death chamber. When a prisoner was condemned to death he was taken there without any warning, generally in the night or early morning. A guillotine was set up there, and the man never came out alive. I suppose this castle could tell some terrible tales if it could talk. But we must be thinking of supper. Haines, you and Henry bring up a few more loads of boards first; that light wood burns up very rapidly, and it is growing chilly.”
The bare old cell soon looked quite cheerful, with a rousing blaze in the fireplace, and its five occupants seated on the benches, eating a good supper and drinking coffee that they had heated over the fire. The Captain announced during the meal that Silburn was to stand watch from six to ten, Haines from ten to two, and Harry Leonard from two till six.
“And the watchman must take care of the fire,” he added, “and keep an eye on the weather. If the wind shifts, I am to be called immediately.”
Kit’s watch carried them through one of the most enjoyable evenings he had ever spent. With the benches drawn up in front of the fire the Captain began to spin sea-yarns, and told them tales of adventure and hairbreadth escape in many seas in various parts of the world. The chief engineer, too, had a good stock of such stories; and Haines spun two or three yarns that kept them in roars of laughter.
“I can’t do my share at this business,” Kit lamented. “I’ve hardly seen a real gale yet, much less had any adventures.”
“That would be no drawback, if you were a real Jack Tar instead of a supercargo,” the Captain said, laughing. “When Jack is short of adventures he invents a few. Some of the imaginary yarns are better than the true ones, too. But you can spin a real yarn some time about the night you were imprisoned in the Castle d’If.”
By ten o’clock the stories were pretty much all told, the sail, now thoroughly dry, was spread over the bed of boards, and all but Haines, the next watch, prepared for sleep. There was no covering, to be sure; but the blazing fire promised to give them a warm and comfortable night. Before turning in, the Captain went to the top of the tower, and found the night intensely dark, but no change in the weather.