CHAPTER XI
A Night of Toil
FOUR days passed. Hamerton's jailers, in spite of the monotonous"Ja's", had neither brought the promised writing materials nor takenany steps to help the prisoner to recover his money.
The work of loosening the refractory stone made steady progress. Onceor twice the Sub fancied that it was shaking in its hard setting. Heeven went so far as to break off the tip of his steel instrument in avain attempt to prise up the slab. The experiment was almost adisastrous one, for Hamerton had to regrind the steel ere he couldstart afresh. Luckily it was still long enough for the purpose, andalso more rigid, while he had still the broken part as asupplementary tool.
"Hans," remarked Hamerton to one of the jailers in quite a casualtone, when the fellow brought a basin of soup to the prisoner, "couldyou let me have a little pepper?"
The man eyed Hamerton suspiciously; then, instead of the monotonous"Ja ", he demanded:
"What for? I suppose you would like to have some? It would come inuseful to throw in my eyes, and you would try to break out of prison,eh?"
"No," replied the Sub coolly. "I can assure you that I would not useit for that purpose. I have a cold in my head."
"Better, then, apply to see the doctor."
"It's not worth that. I have always found pepper an excellent remedywhen nothing better is to hand. Can't you get me a little?"
"I'll see," replied Hans.
A quarter of an hour later he re-entered the cell.
"Here you are, Englishman," he said, handing Hamerton a small paperparcel. "It's strong enough to blow your head off."
"Thank you, Hans!" said the Sub.
Directly the man went out Hamerton placed the packet of pepper in theonly pocket of his coat, in which there was already a couple ofhandkerchiefs and his watch.
"I didn't think I should obtain the pepper so easily," hesoliloquized. "It will come in very handy before many days are past."
Hamerton made a late start that evening. Detroit was in a verycommunicative mood, tapping out messages with tremendous zeal, tillhis friend had to caution him not to make so much noise, through fearof being overheard.
It was just twelve when Hamerton, using the steel as a lever, foundto his great delight that the stone was actually loose. For the nexthalf-hour he worked like one possessed, with the result that the slabwas displaced. Half-dreading the outcome of his investigations,Hamerton groped cautiously with his hand into the deep cavity. Almostat arm's length his fingers touched a mass of rubble. The floor washollow.
Now, for the first time since his incarceration, the Sub wedged thedoor of his cell by means of the stool. Thus he was fairly safe frominterruption, and in the event of a nightly visitation he might beable to replace the stone and hide the traces of his handiwork beforeadmitting his jailers.
This done, he attacked the slab adjoining the hole in the floor. Bydint of much heaving he succeeded in displacing it without havingrecourse to the tedious process of chiselling out the cement.
"I wish I had a box of matches," he muttered. "Only a mole could findits way about in that hole. Well, here goes!"
So saying, he lowered himself into the pit, so black that by contrasthis cell was fairly illuminated, for the searchlights were constantlyflashing skywards.
Between the under side of the stone floor and the rubble on which hestood was a space of about eighteen inches in height. It was likesitting on the summit of a mound, for the surface descended on allsides. Hamerton was standing on the crown of one of the vaultedarches of the store under the prison cells. During his exercise hourin the courtyard he had made the discovery that the room on theground floor was vaulted.
"Easy ahead!" he muttered between his closed teeth, for the dust rosein clouds in the confined space. Before he had crawled very far theheight increased sufficiently for him to be able to kneel upright.Then his hands came in contact with a wall--the division between hiscell and that occupied by the American.
"Rough luck!" he ejaculated. "More miniature pick-and-shovel work, Isuppose. Ah, there's Detroit tapping again! Sorry I can't attend toyou, old man."
Groping with his left hand Hamerton followed the course of theparting wall, hoping that he might find an opening into the spacebeneath Detroit's cell. His hopes were realized, for almost at thejunction with the outer wall of the building was a gap in thestonework.
"It will be a tight squeeze, by Jove!" he ejaculated. "I'll risk it;but what a mess I'll be in!"
He had not before taken into consideration the fact that the state ofhis clothes would "give the show away" to his jailers. Retracing hissteps he regained his cell, and promptly stripped off his hideousprison garb, shook out the dust, and laid the garment on the bed.
Once more he dropped into the hole, and with more confidence crawledto the corner of the space where he had located a means ofcommunication with the corresponding cavity on the other side of thedividing wall.
It was a dangerous performance wriggling through the narrow aperture.More than once Hamerton had to stop through sheer exhaustion. Therough stonework grazed his ribs and lacerated his elbows and thighs.It seemed as if he stood a great chance of becoming jammed, for,having succeeded in forcing his shoulders through, his hipsobstinately refused to scrape between the sides of the opening. Toadd to his discomfort, the air was far from pure, and he was seizedby an attack of dizziness.
Temporarily panic-stricken, he struggled furiously and contrived toback out of his dangerous predicament.
"It will mean enlarging that hole," he thought. "I've done enough forthe time being. To-morrow night I'll have another shot at it."
With this resolution he returned to his cell, washed off the dirt,and turned in, glad to rest the bruised angularities of his achingbody.
Presently he began to ponder over the difficulties that had besethim. "Either I'll have to make that hole larger or I'll have toreduce my fat," he said to himself, with a laugh. "Talk about asquare peg in a round hole, or a round peg in a square hole. By Jove!I'm an ass. The hole is square right enough, but my midship sectionisn't round--it's oval. If I had only kept my hips in two oppositecorners instead of trying to squeeze through on my stomach I couldhave done it hands down. I wonder what the time is?"
He sat up and pulled out his watch. There was too much gloom to seethe hands.
Even as he looked a brilliant beam of light flashed straight inthrough the window. It was a quarter to one. For a few seconds onlythe searchlight rays played upon the building; then all was darkness,rendered the more opaque by reason of the sudden change.
"A searchlight from an airship," exclaimed the Sub. He knew perfectlywell that since from his window he could see nothing of thesearchlight apparatus placed on the fortifications, it was converselyimpossible for one of those searchlights to throw a direct beamthrough the window of his cell.
In a trice he was out of bed. Propping the partially dismemberedstool against the wall, he climbed up to the window and looked out.He was just in time to see a large Zeppelin in the act of descendingsomewhere to the left of his prison. By the arrangement of the carshe knew that it was not the same craft that he had seen rechargingher petrol tanks on the morning of his arrest.
"I wonder whether they are stationed here?" he asked himself. "Anairship of that size must need an enormous shed, yet I'll swear Inever saw one when I was being taken ashore. And they would neverrisk mooring a lubberly craft like that in the open."
As there was nothing more to be seen, the Sub clambered down from hisinsecure perch and prepared once more to turn in. Suddenly he feltinclined to put his theory to the test. It was not yet one o'clock,four precious hours yet remained ere dawn. He would make anotherattempt to squeeze through that baffling hole in the wall.
This time he succeeded with comparative ease, although his bruisedhips gave him a bad time of it during the operation. In his sense ofelation pain and discomfort were forgotten, for he was now underneaththe cell occupied by his comrade, with only six inches of stone floorto s
eparate them.
It puzzled Hamerton considerably to know how the stone flags weresupported, since there was a cavity underneath the floor, but now hemade a discovery that he had hitherto overlooked. The floor had beenconstructed at a fairly recent date, and was supported by slight irongirders, spaced about eighteen inches apart, which were in turnsupported by small brick piers rising from the upper side of thevaulting. Fortunately the Sub had by chance decided to remove a stonethat was only partly resting on a girder and held in position by awedge-shaped stone--the second one that he had removed.
"It's about time I gave Detroit a hint," he thought. "I'll tap out amessage as lightly as possible, in case the sound travels to anotherpart of the building."
"Am crawling under the floor of your cell," he announced. "Will tryand join you either to-night or to-morrow. Have you anything you canuse to help shift one of the stones?"
"Nothing," came the reply. "But hustle some; I'm right keen on seeingyou."
Considering Hamerton had been "hustling" like a nigger for hours thisrequest struck him as being a cool one; but, guessing rightly that itwas owing solely to Detroit's enthusiasm at the prospect of beingjoined by his chum, the Sub began to tackle the new phase of hisarduous task.
Feeling for a stone that projected farther than the rest, Hamertonbegan to tug at it with his hands. It was seemingly immovable. Herealized that the only way to shift it was to dig out the cement, ashe had done in the case of the one in his cell. But there was adifference. He had to be on his back; the dust fell upon him, gettinginto his eyes, nose, and mouth, and causing him acute discomfort.Only by his sense of touch could he determine whether he wasattacking the cement or merely the hard stone.
At length his physical strength began to fail; his arms refused toobey the dictates of his active mind. Reluctantly he abandoned histask for that night and painfully crawled back to his bed. It wasthen a quarter-past three. For close on two hours and a half he hadtoiled under adverse conditions, yet the result of his labours wassatisfactory. He had almost established a direct communication withhis friend without having recourse only to conversation in Morse.
With this solace to act as balm to his wearied body the Sub was soonfast asleep, nor did he awake till his jailers appeared with hisbreakfast.