CHAPTER XIX

  _In Which Archie Armstrong Goes Deeper In and Thinks He Has Got Beyond His Depth. Bill o' Burnt Bay Takes Deschamps By the Throat and the Issue Is Doubtful For a Time_

  That afternoon, after a short conversation with Josiah Cove, who hadthus far managed to keep out of trouble, Archie Armstrong spent abrief time on the _Heavenly Home_ to attend to the health and comfortof the watchman, who was in no bad way. Perhaps, after all, Archiethought--if Deschamps' headache would only cause the removal of Billo' Burnt Bay to the dilapidated cell on the ground floor--the_Heavenly Home_ might yet be sailed in triumph to Ruddy Cove. Hestrutted the deck, when necessary, with as much of the insolence of acivic official as he could command, and no man came near to questionhis right. When the watchman's friends came from the _Voyageur_ hedrove them away in excellent French. They went meekly and withapologies for having disturbed him.

  "So far, well enough," thought Archie, as he rowed ashore, glad to beoff the schooner.

  It was after dark when, by appointment, the lad met Josiah. Josiah hadprovided himself with a crowbar and a short length of line, which hesaid would be sure to come useful, for he had always found it so. Thenthe two set off for the jail together, and there arrived some timeafter the drums had warned all good people to be within doors.

  "What's that?" said Josiah of a sudden.

  It was a hoarse, melancholy croak proceeding from the other side ofthe wall. The skipper's cell had been changed, as Archie had hoped,and the skipper himself was doing his duty to the bitter end. Thestreet was deserted. They acted quickly. Josiah gave Archie a leg. Hethrew his jacket over the broken glass and mounted the wall. Josiahmade off at once; it was his duty to have the skiff in readiness.Archie dropped into the garden.

  "Is that you, b'y?" whispered Skipper Bill.

  Again Archie once more found it impossible to take the adventureseriously. He began to laugh. It was far too much like the romanceshe had read to be real. It was play, it seemed--just like a game ofsmugglers and pirates, played on a summer's afternoon.

  "Is it you, Archie?" the skipper whispered again.

  Archie chuckled aloud.

  "Is the wind in the west?" the skipper asked.

  "Ay," Archie replied; "and blowing a smart sailing breeze."

  "Haste, then, lad!" said the skipper. "'Tis time t' be off for RuddyCove."

  The window was low. With his crowbar Archie wrenched a bar from itssocket. It came with a great clatter. It made the boy's blood run coldto hear the noise. He pried the second and it yielded. Down fell ablock of stone with a crash. While he was feeling for a purchase onthe third bar Skipper Bill caught his wrist.

  "Hist, lad!"

  It was a footfall in the corridor. Skipper Bill slipped into thedarkness by the door--vanished like a shadow. Archie dropped to theground. By what unhappy chance had Deschamps come upon thisvisitation? Could it have been the silence of Skipper Bill? Archieheard the cover of the grating drawn away from the peep-hole in thedoor.

  "He's gone!"

  That was Deschamps' voice. Doubtless he had observed that two barswere missing from the window. Archie heard the key slipped into thelock and the door creak on its hinges. All the time he knew thatSkipper Bill was crouched in the shadow--poised for the spring. Theboy no longer thought of the predicament as a game. Nor was heinclined to laugh again. This was the ugly reality once more come toface him. There would be a fight in the cell. This he knew. And hewaited in terror of the issue.

  There was a quick step--a crash--a quick-drawn breath--the noise of ashock--a cry--a groan. Skipper Bill had kicked the door to and leapedupon the jailer. Archie pried the third bar out and broke the fourthwith a blow. Then he squirmed through the window. Even in that dimlight--half the night light without--he could see that the strugglewas over. Skipper Bill had Deschamps by the throat with his greatright hand. He had the jailer's waist in his left arm as in a vise,and was forcing his head back--back--back--until Archie thought theFrenchman's spine would crack.

  "Don't kill him!" Archie cried.

  Skipper Bill had no intention of doing so; nor had Deschamps, thewrestler, any idea of allowing his back to be broken.

  "Don't kill him!" Archie begged again.

  Deschamps was tugging at that right arm of iron--weakly, vainlytugging to wrench it away from his throat. His eyes were startingfrom their sockets, and his tongue protruded. Back went thehead--back--back! The arm was pitiless. Back--back! He was fordone. Ina moment his strength departed and he collapsed. He had not had timeto call for help, so quick had been Bill's hand. They bound his limpbody with the length of line Josiah had brought, and they had nosooner bound him than he revived.

  "You are a great man, monsieur," he mumbled. "You have vanquishedme--Deschamps! You will be famous--famous, monsieur. I shall send myresignation to His Excellency the Governor to-morrow. Deschamps--he isvanquished!"

  "What's he talkin' about?" the skipper panted.

  "You have beaten him."

  "Let's be off, b'y," the skipper gasped.

  They locked the door on the inside, clambered through the window andscaled the wall. They sped through the deserted streets with allhaste. They came to the landing-place and found the skiff tugging ather painter with her sails all unfurled. Presently they were under wayfor the _Heavenly Home_, and, having come safely aboard, hauled up themainsail, set the jib and were about to slip the anchor. Then theyheard the clang, clang, clang of a bell--a warning clang, clang,clang, which could mean but one thing: discovery.

  "Fetch up that Frenchman," the skipper roared.

  The watchman was loosed and brought on deck.

  "Put un in his dory and cast off," the skipper ordered.

  This done the anchor was slipped and the sheets hauled taut. The restof the canvas was shaken out and the _Heavenly Home_ gathered way andfairly flew for the open sea.

  * * * * *

  If there was pursuit it did not come within sight. The old schoonercame safely to Ruddy Cove, where Bill o' Burnt Bay, Josiah Cove andArchie Armstrong lived for a time in sickening fear of discovery andarrest. But nothing was ever heard from Saint Pierre. The _HeavenlyHome_ had been unlawfully seized by the French; perhaps that is whythe Ruddy Cove pirates heard no more of the Miquelon escapade. Therewas hardly good ground in the circumstances for complaint to theNewfoundland government. At any rate, Archie wrote a full and truestatement of the adventure to his father in St. John's; and his fatherreplied that his letter had been received and "contents noted."

  There was no chiding; and Archie breathed easier after he had read theletter.