Billy Topsail & Company: A Story for Boys

  CHAPTER XVIII

  _In Which Archie Inspects an Opera Bouffe Dungeon Jail, Where He Makes the Acquaintance of Dust, Dry Rot and Deschamps. In Which, Also, Skipper Bill o' Burnt Bay Is Advised to Howl Until His Throat Cracks_

  In the morning Archie went as a tourist to the jail where Bill o'Burnt Bay was confined. The wind was blowing fresh from the west andpromised to hold true for the day. It was a fair, strong wind for theoutward bound craft; but Archie Armstrong had no longer any interestin the wind or in the _Heavenly Home_. He was interested in captivesand cells. To his astonishment he found that the Saint Pierre jail hadbeen designed chiefly with the idea of impressing the beholder, andwas builded long, long ago.

  It was a low-walled structure situate in a quiet quarter of the town.The outer walls were exceeding thick. One might work with a pick andshovel for a week and never tunnel them.

  "But," thought Archie, "why tunnel them when it is possible to leapover them?"

  They were jagged on top and strewn with bits of broken bottle imbeddedin the mortar.

  "But," thought Archie, "why cut one's hands when it is so easy tothrow a jacket over the glass and save the pain?"

  The walls apparently served no good purpose except to frighten thepopulace with their frowns.

  * * * * *

  As big Deschamps, the jailer, led Archie through the musty corridorsand cells the boy perceived that the old building had long ago gone towrack. It was a place of rust and dust and dry rot, of crumblingmasonry, of rotted casements, of rust-eaten bars, of creaking hingesand broken locks. He had the impression that a strong man could breakin the doors with his fist and tumble the walls about his ears with apush.

  "This way, monsieur," said Deschamps, at last. "Come! I will show youthe pig of a Newfoundlander who half killed a gendarme. He is aterrible fellow."

  He had Skipper Bill safe enough--thrown into a foul-aired, windowlesscell with an iron-bound door, from which there was no escape. Torelease him was impossible, whatever the condition of the jail inother parts. Archie had hoped to find a way; but when he saw the cellin which Skipper Bill was confined he gave up all idea of a rescue.And at that moment the skipper came to the narrow grating in the door.He scowled at the jailer and looked the boy over blankly.

  "Pah!" exclaimed Deschamps, screwing his face into a look of disgust.

  "You wait 'til I cotches _you!_" the skipper growled.

  "What does the pig say, monsieur?" Deschamps asked.

  "He has not yet repented," Archie replied, evasively.

  "Pah!" said Deschamps again. "Come, monsieur; we shall continue theinspection."

  Archie was taken to the furthermost cell of the corridor. It wasisolated from that part of the building where the jailer had hisliving quarters, and it was a light, roomy place on the ground floor.The window bars were rusted thin and the masonry in which they weresunk was falling away. It seemed to Archie that he himself couldwrench the bars away with his hands; but he found that he could notwhen he tried them. He looked out; and what he saw made him regretthat Skipper Bill had not been confined in that particular cell.

  "This cell, monsieur," said Deschamps, importantly, "is where Iconfine the drunken Newfoundland sailors when----"

  Archie looked up with interest.

  "When they make a great noise, monsieur," Deschamps concluded. "I havethe headache," he explained. "So bad and so often I have the headache,monsieur. I cannot bear the great noise they make. It is fearful. So Iput them here, and I go to sleep, and they do not trouble me at all."

  "Is monsieur in earnest?" Archie asked.

  Deschamps was flattered by this form of address from a younggentleman. "It is true," he replied. "Compelled. That is the word. Iam compelled to confine them here."

  "Let us return to the Newfoundlander," said Archie.

  "He is a pig," Deschamps agreed, "and well worth looking at."

  When they came to the door of Skipper Bill's cell, Archie wasendeavouring to evolve a plan for having a word with him withoutexciting Deschamps' suspicion. The jailer saved him the trouble.

  "Monsieur is an American," said Deschamps. "Will he not tell the pigof a Newfoundlander that he shall have no breakfast?"

  "Skipper Bill," said Archie, in English, "when I leave here you howluntil your throat cracks."

  Bill o' Burnt Bay nodded. "How's the wind?" he asked.

  "What does the pig of a Newfoundlander say?" Deschamps inquired.

  "It is of no importance," Archie replied.

  When Archie had inspected the guillotine in the garret, whichDeschamps exhibited to every visitor with great pride, the jailer ledhim to the open air.

  "Do the prisoners never escape?" Archie asked.

  "Escape!" Deschamps cried, with reproach and indignation. "Monsieur,how could you suggest it? Escape! From me--from _me_, monsieur!" Hestruck his breast and extended his arms. "Ah, no--they could not! Mybravery, monsieur--my strength--all the world knows of them. I amfamous, monsieur. Deschamps, the wrestler! Escape! From _me_! Ah,no--it is _impossible_!"

  When Archie had more closely observed his gigantic form, his broad,muscular chest, his mighty arms and thick neck, his large, loweringface--when he had observed all this he fancied that a man might aswell wrestle with a grizzly as oppose him, for it would come to thesame thing in the end.

  "You are a strong man," Archie admitted.

  "Thanks--thanks--monsieur!" the delighted Deschamps responded.

  At that moment, a long, dismal howl broke the quiet. It was repeatedeven more excruciatingly.

  "The pig of a Newfoundlander!" groaned Deschamps. "My head! It isfearful. He will give me the headache."

  Archie departed. He was angry with Deschamps for having calledNewfoundlanders pigs. After all, he determined, angrily, the jailerwas deserving of small sympathy.