king over their escape,
and the best mode of meeting all possible contingencies, and then most
of the old hands lay down to sleep, that they might be fresher when the
moment of action arrived.

No sooner was it dark than Mr Calder set to work to remove some of the
planks above the brickwork. It was, as the corporal had hinted, very
rotten, and quickly gave way to their pulls. An aperture of size
sufficient to allow a man to force himself through was soon made. Mr
Calder then securing the rope, and lowering it to the ground, directing
his men to stand in the order they were to descend, told Rawson to bring
up the rear, went himself through the hole, and slid down noiselessly to
the ground. The midshipmen followed, and then came the men; not a word
was spoken, but they imitated their leader's example in picking up some
large stones with which to defend themselves, should they be suddenly
attacked. One after the other the men came gliding down in the rapid
way none but seamen could have done; not the slightest noise was made;
their feet, as they touched the ground, made no more sound than those of
cats. All had descended except Rawson, when a noise was heard in the
room above, as of a door opening. There was a scuffle, but no one cried
out; in an instant Job Truefitt was swarming up the rope hand over hand;
Morton, the most active of the party, followed him. Whatever there was
to be done was to be effected quickly. With the deepest anxiety the
rest of the party waited to ascertain what had happened, while two or
three prepared to follow. Job crept in at the hole in the wall, and
looked round the prison. At first he could see nothing. At last he
fancied that he could distinguish something moving on the other side of
the room. He sprang towards the spot, and so did Morton.

"Here we are, Mr Rawson; here we are, come to help you," whispered Job.
A deep groan was the response. It was soon evident that there were two
people on the ground, struggling in a deadly embrace--but which was
friend or foe, was the question. They had tight hold of each other's
throats, and were actually throttling each other.

"You catch hold of one, Mr Morton," whispered Job, who had recognised
Ronald. "I'll take t'other, and then we'll settle with the mounseer,
whichever he may be."

Ronald found by his jacket that he had got hold of Rawson, but it was
not without digging his nails into the Frenchman's wrist that he was
able to mak