CHAPTER X

  In the Prison Cell

  IMMEDIATELY after the ending of the trial the two prisoners wereseparated. Hamerton was escorted through the streets of the Oberland,past the old Frisian church, and lodged in a massive stone buildingalmost adjacent to the north-east angle of the barracks.

  During and long previous to the British occupation of Heligoland thisbuilding had been used is a fish store. It stood on solidlyconstructed arched pillars, the entrance being by means of a flightof stone steps protected by a wrought-iron railing. Latterly thespace under the vaulted arches had been enclosed by galvanized-ironfencing and utilized as a store for engineering tools and plant. Thebuilding above was subdivided into eight narrow rooms, each lightedby a rectangular window about three feet in height and eighteeninches in width. Each of these windows was heavily barred.

  Surrounding this massive structure was a wall twelve feet in height,surmounted by revolving rods studded with steel spikes, and piercedby a narrow gateway sufficiently wide to admit the passage of ahandcart. This wall abutted on the barracks, and the space betweenthe house and the wall, paved with stone flags, served as anexercising ground for the prisoners who were confined within. Thesewere mostly men serving long sentences for insubordination and otherserious offences against military and naval discipline.

  Just inside the outer gateway was a small guardhouse in which werequartered the soldiers detained to act as warders. Here Hamerton washanded over to the jailers, and compelled to have a bath and don asuit of blue-and-yellow cloth that made him look like a footballplayer. All his personal belongings--and they were few in numberowing to his hurried departure from the yacht--were taken from him,with the exception of his watch. This done, he was escorted up theexterior staircase of the main prison and placed under lock and keyin the room at the north-eastern angle of the building.

  "Well," he soliloquized, "if this is to be my quarters for the nextfive years--though I don't think it will be, as long as there is astrong man at the head of the Foreign Office--I may as well makemyself comfortable. It's rotten being without Detroit though. Theymight have left us together. Now, let us see how the land lies."

  His first step was to attempt to drag the iron bed frame across thefloor and place it under the window.

  "Confound it!" he muttered. "They've bolted the thing to the floor.No matter, I'll see what I can do with the stool."

  Altering the position of that article of furniture to the desiredspot, the Sub found that he could just grasp the bars of the window.Then, at the expense of a pair of skinned knees, he succeeded indrawing himself up sufficiently to be able to look out.

  The aspect was not satisfactory. The outlook was to the pavedcourtyard, a high blank wall of a large building on the other side ofthe street, the upper part of the church tower, and an expanse ofcloudy sky.

  "Well, if I am condemned as a spy I jolly well will be one," hecontinued. "There's not much to be seen from the window, so thesooner I see about getting out the better."

  With that he descended from his uncomfortable position and began topace the narrow limits of his cell. Round and round he went, almostaimlessly. It reminded him of an incident of his youth. He had caughta hedgehog, and, wishing to keep it as a pet, had enclosed a smallextent of grass-covered ground with a circular fence of wire netting.As soon as the hedgehog had uncoiled itself it began to run round andround the fence, its nose continually poking at the meshes in thehope of finding an exit. The animal eventually made its escape byburrowing. Good heavens! The thought suddenly occurred to him: whycould he not burrow his way out of his prison?

  He sounded the walls. They seemed solid enough. The floor, too,looked of far too massive construction to be disturbed without theaid of proper tools. It was paved with stones averaging two feetsquare, set in hard cement. Every flag he tapped with his heel. Theresult was not encouraging. No hollow sound rewarded his efforts.

  "I'll tackle it somehow," he muttered.

  His usually deliberate manner seemed to have deserted him on thefirst day of his imprisonment. He felt consumed by an almostoverwhelming desire to exercise all his energy at once, only prudenceasserted itself.

  "I'll lie low for a day or so," he resolved. "It will give me time tofind out what routine is carried out. If they don't inspect the cellsduring the night I'll be able to work unmolested. If they do, byJove! it will be a risky business."

  Just then came the sound of men's footsteps along the stone passage.Planting his ear against the door Hamerton listened intently. Againhe was unrewarded, for not a word was spoken by the men without. Adoor was unlocked, slammed, and locked again, and the sound offootsteps grew fainter and fainter.

  A little later a couple of soldiers entered the Sub's cell. One ofthem remained just inside the threshold, the other placed anearthenware plate containing a piece of black bread and a morsel ofcheese upon the bed and a jug of water on the floor.

  "Look here," said Hamerton, looking disdainfully at the frugal repastand addressing the men in their own language; "is this the best I amto have?"

  "Ja," was the stolid reply.

  "I've money. There's a fairly large sum belonging to me on the yacht.Can't I have food sent in to me from outside?"

  "Ja."

  "Will you let me have paper and pencil so that I can ask thecommandant?"

  "Ja."

  "Very good; I'll give you a sovereign--that's equal at least totwenty marks."

  "Ja."

  The men backed out, relocked the door, and left Hamerton to hismeditations and his supper. He ate all the food that had beenprovided for him, and drank about half the contents of the pitcher.The rest he saved to quench his thirst during the long hours of thenight, for he had a foreboding that he would obtain very little sleepduring the hours of darkness.

  He half counted upon the return of the jailer with writing materials,but no one came. He must exercise his patience and wait. "If I gethold of my spare cash within a week I shall be lucky," thought he.

  The increasing gloom of the cell warned him of the approach of night.While the light remained he arranged the coarse blankets of his bed.The supper plate he placed against the door, so that upon anyoneattempting to enter, the clatter would warn him. Directly it becamenight the searchlights along the edge of the cliff flashedincessantly.

  Partially divesting himself of his clothing, Hamerton lay down uponthe uncomfortable bed. There he remained without any desire to sleep.His mind was revolving the events of the day. His unjust trial, theseparation from his companion, rankled within his breast. He wonderedhow Von Wittelsbach, with all his cunning, would continue to concealthe identity of his victims. What were the secrets of the forbiddenland that were so jealously guarded?

  Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap!

  Hamerton raised himself upon his elbow and listened intently.

  "What on earth's that?" he asked aloud.

  The tapping sound was resumed. The noise seemed to come from theadjoining room.

  "Great Scott! Is it someone trying to call me up in Morse?" he asked."It may be Detroit."

  Springing out of bed he groped for the plate that he had placedagainst the door. "Tap, tap--tap--tap, tap--tap," he signalled, thedouble sounds corresponding with the "dashes" of the Morse code.

  To his inexpressible delight the question came.

  "Is that Ham? I'm Det."

  "How did you know I was here?"

  "Guessed it."

  "Think we'll be heard?"

  "No; only be careful."

  For the best part of an hour the friends conversed at the rate ofabout six words a minute. It was slow work, but the fact of beingable to communicate at all was a source of mutual satisfaction.Caution prevented them from discussing any probability of escape, forshould their jailers hear and understand the messages that passedbetween the prisoners it would be almost a certainty that one of themwould be moved to a more remote part of the building.

  At intervals during the night communication was re-established. Dawnfound Hamert
on weary-eyed and pale. He had not slept a wink.

  At seven the warders appeared, bringing the Sub's breakfast. Thisconsisted of a kind of coarse porridge and a slice of rye bread.

  "Good morning!" said Hamerton, as a preliminary to furtherconversation.

  "Ja," came the response.

  "Are you bringing the writing materials?"

  "Ja."

  Without waiting to be questioned further the men took the plate thatthey had left overnight and went out.

  "That fellow won't break his jaw through too much talking," commentedthe Sub. "One blessing, they didn't trouble us during the night. I'llstart tunnelling this very evening."

  An hour later the door was opened again. This time there were twodifferent soldiers. One of them carried a broom, which he gave toHamerton and signed that he should clean out his cell.

  "I speak German," announced the Sub.

  "Ja," came the reply in a tone meant to imply that the informationwas not of the slightest interest to the taciturn fellow.

  They waited till Hamerton had completed his task. The broom and thebreakfast utensils were placed outside the cell, and the Sub wasordered to follow his jailers.

  "They overheard us signalling," he thought. "We are to be keptapart."

  However, such was not the case. Hamerton was conducted into theexercise yard and allowed to walk up and down for the space of nearlyan hour. This over, he was taken back to his cell and locked in.

  At tea-time he deliberately dropped the earthenware plate upon thestone floor, and selecting a pointed fragment hid it under his bed.When the jailers returned, one of them carefully gathered up theremaining fragments, received the Sub's explanations with theperpetual "Ja", and went out.

  The Sub reckoned that he would be uninterrupted until seven o'clock;he had nearly three hours to conduct operations. Selecting a slab ofstone in a dark corner of his cell adjoining that tenanted byDetroit, he began to attack the cement. It was almost as hard asiron. The fragment of earthenware was a most unsatisfactory tool, forat the end of three hours he had made only a deep scratch in thecement, and had chafed his hands till they were covered withblisters. Yet so intent had he been on his stupendous task that,until he "knocked off", he was unaware of the damage he had wroughtto his hands. That night he spent in alternately communicating withDetroit and attacking the stubborn cement, snatching a few hours'sleep towards morning.

  Exercise time came round. On the previous day he had kept his eyeswell about him, studying the relative position of the windows and theground, and mentally measuring the height of the enclosing walls.This time he paced up and down, never walking over the same tracktwice. He kept his eyes on the ground, hoping to find some piece ofmetal which he could press into his service. With his eyelidshalf-closed his demeanour excited no suspicion amongst the soldiersdetailed to keep him under observation.

  Presently he caught sight of what appeared to be a rusty nail, almostburied in the narrow strip of cultivated ground bordering one side ofthe paved courtyard.

  Thrice he passed it before he purposely tripped over a convenientlyuneven stone, and fell full length upon the ground, his handssprawling in a seemingly vain endeavour to save himself. Even hiswooden-faced guards smiled at the sight of the Englishman kissing theground. But when Hamerton regained his feet a piece of steel, nearlyseven inches in length, was reposing within his sleeve.

  As soon as he was relocked in his cell he eagerly examined his prize.It was a portion of a steel prong, doubtless snapped off by a suddencontact with the stone wall. It was rusty, but the rust had not eatendeeply into the metal. It rang truly when dropped upon the floor.Hamerton would not have parted with it under present conditions for ahundred pounds.

  The next thing to be done was to find something suitable for ahandle. Experience had already taught him the need for a protectionfor the hands.

  Upturning the stool, he examined the joints of one of the legs. Itwas not screwed, but merely jammed into the thick wooden seat. Beforewrenching it off he bored a hole into one end with the pointed partof the steel, enlarging the hole sufficiently to be able to insertthe blunted end. This took him nearly two hours' continuous work, butat the finish he found himself in possession of quite a sharp andefficient tool.

  Well before the time of his jailers' visit he withdrew the steel andhid it in the under side of the bed, replaced the leg of the stool,and resigned himself to a period of inaction.

  As soon as it became dark the searchlights were switched on. Hamertoncould see the giant beams travel slowly across the sky, although mostof the searchlights were trained to sweep the surface of the sea. Atfrequent intervals the bark of quick-firers shook the solid building.A night attack, one of the frequent attempts upon Heligoland by theBorkum flotilla of destroyers, was in progress. Similar manoeuvreswere of almost nightly occurrence.

  The detonations of the ordnance were of immense service to Hamerton.He could begin operations with less chance of being detected, for therasping of the steel point against the cement was inaudible duringthe firing.

  Nevertheless, it was slow work chipping out minute particles of thestoutly resisting substance. Frequently he paused to gather up ahandful of the debris and hurl it out of the window. In two hours hehad cut out the cement to a depth of two inches round the fairlylarge slab which he had fruitlessly attacked with the fragment of thebroken earthenware plate.

  Shortly after eleven o'clock the firing suddenly ceased, although thesearchlights were still flashing across the sky. There was now moreneed for caution. The Sub stuck grimly to his task, pouring waterinto the little rectangular trench in order to deaden the sound ofthe steel. Several times he had to "knock off" in order to reply toa signalled message from Detroit.

  "You are not communicative to-night," tapped the latter.

  "No, not in the sense you mean," replied the Sub. He would dearlyhave liked to inform the American of the work he was undertaking,but, fearing that the conversation was possibly being listened to bya third person, he refrained. "I'm dead tired," he added.

  "Of doing nothing?" asked Detroit.

  Hamerton looked at his bruised and blistered hands and smiled grimly.The irony of the American's question tickled him.

  Far into the night he toiled. The stone showed no sign of looseningin its bed. Again and again he ground the edge of the piece of steeland attacked the stubborn cement, which seemed to possess thetoughness of iron.

  "I'll carry on for another quarter of an hour," he said to himself,as he wiped the perspiration from his forehead. "I wonder what's----"

  The rasping of a key being inserted into the lock of the door causedhim to start to his feet. There was no time to replace the leg of thestool, which was lying on its side. Thrusting the precious implementunder the mattress, Hamerton leapt into the bed, drew the blanketwell over his face, and simulated a snore.

  The door was thrown open. There was a pause. It seemed to the Sublike the slow passing of at least half an hour. In his heatedimagination he fancied the intruder had discovered the signs of hishandiwork. He could discern through his almost closed eyelids theglimmer of a lantern upon the whitewashed stone walls of the cell.

  He attempted another snore. It was a dismal failure; it seemed to himmore like a pig's grunt than anything else he could think of. Thenthe light vanished, the door was closed with less noise than it hadbeen opened with, and once more he was alone.

  For nearly ten minutes Hamerton lay still. He was half-afraid thatthe suspicions of his visitor had been aroused, and that the man hadgone away to bring the guard and make a thorough examination of theplace. At length, pulling himself together, the Sub got out of bed,removed the steel from its handle, and replaced the leg of the stool.The dust that he had not thrown away he mixed with grease from theremains of his supper, and worked it into the crevices surroundingthe stone that he was determined to remove.

  This done, he threw himself upon his bed, and, being thoroughly tiredout, was soon in a sound, dreamless sleep.

 
Percy F. Westerman's Novels