“Buenos noches, good night, Señores,” he repeated; and to our infinite satisfaction, without approaching the window, he and his assistants retired, and closed the door behind them.
We listened till their footsteps had died away in the distance; and then jumping up, we went to the window, where I gave a low mew, which was answered by the sailor, who quickly climbed back again to his former post. I told him in hurried accents what had occurred.
“Never mind,” he answered coolly. “More reason for haste. Another half-hour’s work will set you free. Bear a hand about it, then.”
His calmness reassured us; and having carefully cleared away the pitch, we went on filing at the bar as fast as we could. My heart certainly did beat more rapidly than it had ever done before; for I expected every moment to be interrupted by the entrance of the gaolers. Fortunately the wind blew, and the tiles rattled more loudly than ever. At last, to our great satisfaction, both the bars were almost filed through. The sailor seized the one he had been working at, and with a powerful wrench, tore it from the stone window-frame.
“There,” he said, giving me the piece of bar. “Put it carefully down. We will leave it as a legacy behind us.”
Pedro and I grasped the other, and with all our strength tore it away.
“Hurra! all right now, mates,” said the the sailor, scarcely refraining from giving a cheer. “Bear a hand, and squeeze through. I’ll help you.”
“You go first,” said Pedro. “I’ll follow you.”
I could just manage to squeeze my head and shoulders between the bars; and with the assistance of the sailor, who hauled away by my collar, I found myself standing outside them on the window-ledge.
“There won’t be room for all of us outside, so do you, mate, just get hold of the rope and slide down to the ground,” observed the sailor.