The Battle and the Breeze

  CHAPTER EIGHT.

  OUR HERO AND HIS MESSMATE GET INTO TROUBLE.

  On the night after the battle, Bill Bowls and Ben Bolter were sent onboard a French transport ship.

  As they sat beside each other, in irons, and securely lodged underhatches, these stout men of war lamented their hard fate thus--

  "I say, Bill, this is wot I calls a fix!"

  "That's so, Ben--a bad fix."

  There was silence for a few minutes, then Ben resumed--

  "Now, d'ye see, this here war may go on for ever so long--years it maybe--an' here we are on our way to a French prison, where we'll have thepleasure, mayhap, of spendin' our youth in twirlin' our thumbs orbangin' our heads agin the bars of our cage."

  "There ain't a prison in France as'll hold me," said Bill Bowlsresolutely.

  "No? how d'ye 'xpect to git out--seein' that the walls and doors ain'tmade o' butter, nor yet o' turnips?" inquired Ben.

  "I'll go up the chimbley," said Bill savagely, for his mind had revertedto Nelly Blyth, and he could not bear to think of prolongedimprisonment.

  "But wot if they've got no chimbleys?"

  "I'll try the winders."

  "But if the winders is tight barred, wot then?"

  "Why, then, I'll bust 'em, or I'll bust myself, that's all."

  "Humph!" ejaculated Ben.

  Again there was a prolonged silence, during which the friends moodilymeditated on the dark prospects before them.

  "If we could only have bin killed in action," said Bill, "that wouldhave been some comfort."

  "Not so sure o' that, messmate," said Ben. "There's no sayin' wot mayturn up. P'r'aps the war will end soon, an' that's not onlikely, forwe've whipped the Mounseers on sea, an' it won't be difficult for ourlobsters to lick 'em on land. P'r'aps there'll be an exchange ofprisoners, an' we may have a chance of another brush with them one o'these days. If the wust comes to the wust, we can try to break out o'jail and run a muck for our lives. Never say die is my motto."

  Bill Bowls did not assent to these sentiments in words, but he clenchedhis fettered hands, set his teeth together, and gave his comrade a lookwhich assured him that whatever might be attempted he would act avigorous part.

  A few days later the transport entered a harbour, and a guard came onboard to take charge of the prisoners, of whom there were about twenty.As they were being led to the jail of the town, Bill whispered to hiscomrade--

  "Look out sharp as ye go along, Ben, an' keep as close to me as ye can."

  "All right, my lad," muttered Ben, as he followed the soldiers whospecially guarded himself.

  Ben did not suppose that Bill intended then and there to make a suddenstruggle for freedom, because he knew that, with fettered wrists, in astrange port, the very name of which they did not know, and surroundedby armed enemies, such an attempt would be utterly hopeless; hetherefore concluded, correctly, that his companion wished him to takethe bearings (as he expressed it) of the port, and of the streetsthrough which they should pass. Accordingly he kept his "weather-eyeopen."

  The French soldiers who conducted the seamen to prison, although stoutathletic fellows, and, doubtless, capable of fighting like heroes, wereshort of stature, so that the British tars looked down on them with apatronising expression of countenance, and one or two even ventured on afew facetious remarks. Bill Bowls and Ben Bolter, who both measuredabove six feet in their stockings, towered above the crowd like twogiants.

  "It's a purty place intirely," said an Irish sailor, with a smilingcountenance, looking round upon the houses, and nodding to a group ofpretty girls who were regarding the prisoners with looks of pity. "Whatmay be the name of it, av I may make bowld to inquire?"

  The question was addressed to the soldier on his right, but the man paidno attention. So the Irishman repeated it, but without drawing forth areply.

  "Sure, yer a paltry thing that can't give a civil answer to a civilquestion."

  "He don't understand Irish, Pat, try him with English," said Ben Bolter.

  "Ah, then," said Pat, "ye'd better try that yersilf, only yer so high upthere he won't be able to hear ye."

  Before Ben had an opportunity of trying the experiment, however, theyhad arrived at the jail. After they had passed in, the heavy door wasshut with a clang, and bolted and barred behind them.

  It is probable that not one of the poor fellows who heard the sound,escaped a sensation of sinking at the heart, but certain it is that notone condescended to show his feelings in his looks.

  They were all put into a large empty room, the window of which lookedinto a stone passage, which was itself lighted from the roof; the doorwas shut, locked, bolted, and barred, and they were left to theirmeditations.

  They had not remained long there, however, when the bolts and bars wereheard moving again.

  "What say 'e to a rush, lads?" whispered one of the men eagerly.

  "Agreed," said Bill Bowls, starting forward; "I'll lead you, boys."

  "No man can fight with his hands tied," growled one of the others."You'll only be spoilin' a better chance, mayhap."

  At that moment the last bolt was withdrawn, and the door swung open,revealing several files of soldiers with muskets, and bayonets fixed, inthe passage. This sight decided the question of a rush!

  Four of the soldiers entered with the turnkey. The latter, going up toBill Bowls and Ben Bolter, said to them in broken English:--

  "You follows de soldat."

  Much surprised, but in silence, they obeyed the command.

  As they were going out, one of their comrades said, "Good-bye, mates:it's plain they've taken ye for admirals on account o' yer size!"

  "Niver a taste," said the Irishman before mentioned, "'tis bein' led,they are, to exekooshion--"

  The remainder of this consolatory suggestion was cut off by the shuttingof the door.

  After traversing several passages, the turnkey stopped before a smalldoor studded with iron nails, and, selecting one of his huge keys,opened it, while the soldiers ranged up on either side.

  The turnkey, who was a tall, powerful man, stepped back, and, looking atBill, pointed to the cell with his finger, as much as to say, "Go in."

  Bill looked at him and at the soldiers for a moment, clenched his fists,and drew his breath short, but as one of the guard quietly brought hismusket to the charge, he heaved a sigh, bent his head, and, passingunder the low doorway, entered the cell.

  "Are we to stop long here, Mister Turnkey?" asked Ben, as he was aboutto follow.

  The man vouchsafed no reply, but again pointed to the cell.

  "I've always heered ye wos a purlite nation," said Ben, as he followedhis messmate; "but there's room for improvement."

  The door was shut, and the two friends stood for a few minutes in thecentre of their cell, gazing in silence around the blank walls.

  The appearance of their prison was undoubtedly depressing, for there wasnothing whatever in it to arrest the eye, except a wooden bench in onecorner, and the small grated window which was situated near the top ofone of the walls.

  "What d'ye think o' this?" asked Ben, after some time, sitting down onthe bench.

  "I think I won't be able to stand it," said Bill, flinging himselfrecklessly down beside his friend, and thrusting his hands deep into histrouser pockets.

  "Don't take on so bad, messmate," said Ben, in a reproving tone."Gittin' sulky with fate ain't no manner o' use. As our messmateFlinders used to say, `Be aisy, an' if ye can't be aisy, be as aisy asye can.' There's wot I calls sound wisdom in that."

  "Very true, Ben; nevertheless the sound wisdom in _that_ won't avail toget us out o' _this_."

  "No doubt, but it'll help us to bear this with equablenimity while we'rehere, an' set our minds free to think about the best way o' makin' ourescape."

  At this Bill made an effort to throw off the desperate humour which hadtaken possession of him, and he so far succeeded that he was enabled toconverse earnestly with his friend.

  "Wot are we
to do?" asked Bill gloomily.

  "To see, first of all, what lies outside o' that there port-hole,"answered Ben. "Git on my shoulders, Bill, an' see if ye can reach it."

  Ben stood against the wall, and his friend climbed on his shoulders, butso high was the window, that he could not reach to within a foot of it.They overcame this difficulty, however, by dragging the bench to thewall, and standing upon it.

  "I see nothin'," said Bill, "but the sky an' the sea, an' theprison-yard, which appears to me to be fifty or sixty feet below us."

  "That's not comfortin'," observed Ben, as he replaced the bench in itscorner.

  "What's your advice now?" asked Bill.

  "That we remain on our good behaviour a bit," replied Ben, "an' see wotthey means to do with us, an' whether a chance o' some sort won't turnup."

  "Well, that's a good plan--anyhow, it's an easy one to begin with--sowe'll try it for a day or two."

  In accordance with this resolve, the two sailors called into play allthe patience, prudence, and philosophy of which they were possessed, andduring the three days that followed their incarceration, presented sucha meek, gentle, resigned aspect; that the stoniest heart of the mostiron-moulded turnkey ought to have been melted; but the particularturnkey of that prison was made of something more or less than mortalmould, for he declined to answer questions,--declined even to open hislips, or look as if he heard the voices of his prisoners, and took nonotice of them farther than to fetch their food at regular intervals andtake away the empty plates. He, however, removed their manacles; butwhether of his own good-will or by order they did not know.

  "Now, Ben," said Bill on the evening of the third day, as they satbeside each other twirling their thumbs, "this here sort o' thing willnever do. I mean for to make a dash when the turnkey comes in themornin'; will you help me?"

  "I'm yer man," said Ben; "but how d'ye mean to set about it?"

  "Well, somewhat in this fashion:--W'enever he opens the door I'll clapmy hand on his mouth to stop his pipe, and you'll slip behind him, throwyer arms about him, and hold on till I tie a handkerchief over hismouth. Arter that we'll tie his hands and feet with whatever we can githold of--his own necktie, mayhap--take the keys from him, and git outthe best way we can."

  "H'm; but wot if we don't know the right turnin's to take, an' runstraight into the jaws of other turnkeys, p'r'aps, or find other doorsan' gates that his bunch o' keys won't open?"

  "Why, then, we'll just fail, that's all; an' if they should scrag us forit, no matter."

  "It's a bad look-out, but I'll try," said Ben.

  Next morning this plan was put in execution. When the turnkey enteredthe cell, Bill seized him and clapped his hand on his mouth. The manstruggled powerfully, but Ben held him in a grasp so tight that he wasas helpless as an infant.

  "Keep yer mind easy, Mounseer, we won't hurt 'e," said Ben, while hiscomrade was busy gagging him.

  "Now, then, lift him into the corner," whispered Bill.

  Ben and he carried the turnkey, whom they had tied hand and foot withhandkerchiefs and neckties, into the interior of the cell, left himthere, locked the door on him, and immediately ran along the passage,turned a corner, and came in sight of an iron grating, on the other sideof which sat a man in a dress similar to that of the turnkey they hadleft behind them. They at once drew back and tried to concealthemselves, but the man had caught sight of them, and gave the alarm.

  Seeing that their case was desperate, Bill rushed at the grating withall his force and threw himself heavily against it. The whole buildingappeared to quiver with the shock; but the caged tiger has a betterchance of smashing his iron bars than poor Bill Bowls had. Twice heflung his whole weight against the barrier, and the second time Benhelped him; but their efforts were in vain. A moment later and a partyof soldiers marched up to the grating on the outside. At the same timea noise was heard at the other end of the passage. Turning round, thesailors observed that another gate had been opened, and a party of armedmen admitted, who advanced with levelled muskets.

  Seeing this, Bill burst into a bitter laugh, and flung down the keyswith a force that caused the long passage to echo again, as heexclaimed--

  "It's all up with us, Ben. We may as well give in at once."

  "That's so," said Ben sadly, as he suffered himself to be handcuffed,after which he and his companion in misfortune were conducted back totheir cell.