Part 27 (2/2)

”Perhaps by putting our heads together we may hit upon some plan for getting the colonel up here to see you,” answered Tom. ”That would be much better, for you can have no idea of the set of ruffians you would have to meet in the lower prison, and I am very sure that the colonel would not allow you to be among them.”

All sorts of schemes were discussed. The chief hope was that they might work on the feelings of the gaoler's wife, who was evidently well disposed towards them. They had been talking for some time when, hearing footsteps coming along the pa.s.sage, the mids.h.i.+pmen hurried back to their own room. Instead of the gaoler, however, as the door opened, a party of soldiers with fixed bayonets appeared.

”What can these fellows want?” exclaimed Archy.

The soldiers forthwith marched into the room, and, without speaking, began to fasten the mids.h.i.+pmen's arms behind them.

”This doesn't look pleasant,” cried Tom. ”I say, you fellows, what are you about?”

The soldiers made no reply, but continued las.h.i.+ng their aims.

Four, in the meantime, had walked up to the corner where they expected to find the other prisoners; their astonishment was very great when they found instead only some heaps of straw. They talked for a minute together, casting looks at Tom and Archy which betokened no good-will.

One of them having gone out came back with the gaoler, who began questioning them, though, as they scarcely understood a word he said, they were not very well able to give lucid replies. They, of course, guessed, however, that he was making inquiries as to what had become of their companions.

”They will be back soon, I dare say,” said Tom. ”If you will let us wait till then we shall be much obliged to you.”

”Non intende,” answered the gaoler.

”Not in ten days!” exclaimed Tom, even at that moment unable to refrain from a joke.

The gaoler, not being a bit the wiser for Tom's reply, began to stamp and rave, and then repeated his questions in a louder voice, expecting that by so doing he should elicit an answer. At last, he and four of the soldiers went into Miss O'Regan's room, and while two of them cross-questioned her and Polly as to what had become of the missing prisoners, the others searched the room in the hopes of discovering them. Their answers did not satisfy the men, for, like true women, having determined that they would not say what had become of their friends, nothing could induce them to acknowledge that they knew anything about the matter. Fortunately, the soldiers did not think of examining the bars, as it did not occur to them that the fugitives had escaped by the window; at last they came back, looking very disheartened. Four of the soldiers, roughly dragging the mids.h.i.+pmen into the pa.s.sage, led them downstairs. They were then conducted into a courtyard, where a number of other prisoners were collected, some heavily-manacled, and others with their arms secured as theirs were, by ropes. They looked round, and, before long, recognised Colonel O'Regan, as also the masters, mates, and men of the two merchantmen. There were, besides, a number of prisoners in military uniform, whose countenances all wore an agitated and anxious expression, though some tried to hold up their heads and to look indifferent as to the fate awaiting them.

All the Englishmen were manacled, as though their captors supposed that they would make an attempt to escape. The mids.h.i.+pmen would scarcely have known Colonel O'Regan had it not been for his dress and his tall, commanding figure, so pale and haggard had he become; their guards not stopping them, they made their way up to him. He recognised them with a smile of satisfaction.

”What are they going to do with us, Colonel O'Regan?” asked Tom, naturally beginning to feel more nervous than at first.

”To murder us, I fear,” answered the colonel, in a low voice; ”for myself, I care not, but for her and for you my heart bleeds. Tell me, young gentlemen, where is she? How does she bear up against the cruel fate which has overtaken her? I have been unable to learn anything about her since I was shut up in that horrid den with these ruffians.”

The poor colonel was somewhat relieved at hearing that his daughter was not ill-treated, and that her black maid was allowed to remain with her.

Tom told him also of the kindness of the gaoler's wife.

”She is not ungrateful, then, for a slight service I once did her, little thinking at the time how it would be repaid,” he remarked. ”Poor girl, these barbarians would not allow me even a last parting farewell with her.”

”But do you really suppose that there is no hope for us, Colonel O'Regan?” exclaimed Tom. ”Surely they will not dare to shoot us!”

”For myself I certainly expect no mercy,” answered the colonel, gloomily. ”I have, however, hopes that though they may not be influenced by pity for you and your companion, they will hesitate before they injure those clad in the uniform of the British navy. I do not, therefore, despair of your lives; and though I cannot plead for myself I will for you.”

Their conversation was cut short by the arrival of an officer, who gave orders to the guard to conduct the prisoners to the _Campo_ outside the town.

Tom rejoined Archy Gordon and they followed the colonel, who was marched out with Captain Crowhurst as his companion. They were joined by several priests with crucifixes in their hands, who, addressing the prisoners as they walked alongside them, offered to afford them the consolations of their religion.

”We want none of their mummery,” exclaimed Captain Crowhurst, in a tone of indignant contempt. ”Do tell the fellows, colonel, to let us alone.”

The colonel, instead of interpreting this speech, mildly addressed the priests, and a.s.sured them that he and his companions did not require their services, as they differed in creed. The friars now came to Tom and Archy, but soon finding that they did not understand a word they said they fell back to those in the rear. The master of the sloop and the mates spoke much in the same tone as Captain Crowhurst had done, and the priests observing that they were heretics devoted their attention to their own countrymen. Two of the priests, more persevering than the rest, returned again to the colonel; he motioned them aside with the same courteousness as before. Still they addressed him.

”My friends,” he said at length, ”I give you full credit for the honesty of your intentions, but as I have lived so I hope to die, protesting against the false system and erroneous doctrines in which you appear to believe. I have no faith in them, and, therefore, you only interrupt a person who would ask strength from One in whose presence he is about shortly to appear, that he may go through the severe trial he is called upon to endure.”

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