assed.

Walking up to this red-coated individual he placed four guineas (about
$20.00) into his outstretched palm. The soldier smiled grimly, as the
great-coat was tossed aside, and the shrewdest privateer in the
American Navy walked towards the opening through the outer wall, which
was usually left ajar for the convenience of the prison officials.
Another sentry stood upon duty at this point.

Barney nodded. The sentry had been "squared" (told of the coming
escape) and so he turned his back. Thus--with his heart beating like a
trip-hammer--"Josh," the nervy one--walked down the cobbled street
outside of the "Old Mill." He was free.

Dodging into a lane, he soon met a friend who had been told of his
attempt, and who took him to the house of an old clergyman in
Plymouth. In the morning, with two fellow-countrymen, who were also in
hiding (for they had been captured as passengers in a merchant
vessel), he secured a fishing-smack. "Josh" now covered his uniform.
Putting on an old coat with a tarred rope tied around his waist, a
pair of torn trousers, and a tarpaulin hat, the disguised Jack-tar ran
the little vessel down the River Plym, just as day was dawning. The
forts and men-of-war were safely passed, and the little shallop tossed
upon the gleaming wavelets of the English channel.

We are told that his escape was not noticed for some time because "a
slender youth who was capable of creeping through the window-bars at
pleasure crawled into Barney's cell (in the Old Mill Prison) and
answered for him." I doubt this, for--if you have ever seen the bars
of a prison--it would take a Jack Spratt to get through them, and Jack
Spratts are not common. At any rate someone answered to the daily
roll-call for Joshua B., so that it was full two weeks before the
authorities knew of his escape. Perhaps there was a ventriloquist in
the jail.

The tiny boat in which the adventurous American hoped to reach the
welcome shores of France, bobbed up and down, as she ambled towards
the low-lying coast, under a gentle southerly breeze. But there was
trouble in this self-same wind, for the white wings of a British
privateer grew nearer and nearer, and a hail soon came:

"What's your name, and where are you bound?"

Barney and his partners in distress did not answer at all. They
scowled as a boat was lowered from the side of their pursuer, and
quickly splashed towards them. In not many moments, a swearing
sea-captain swung himself upon t