again he whistled as a signal that he had received it.
A few triumphant notes on the flute responded to this, and then all was
silent again.
How impatient Mole was for daylight, that he might read the letter.
But it was many hours to that yet, and sleep he found impossible.
At length, a faint streak came through the bars of the gloomy dungeon.
Mole, with some difficulty, dragged himself under this light,
straightened out the paper, and read thus--
"ISAAC MOLE, ESQUIRE,--You are not forgotten by your friends, who
much lament your misfortune. We very narrowly escaped being caught
and served in the same way. We have, through Captain Deering, got
hold of the British consul, to whom we have represented the affair
to be only a practical joke, not deserving of a severe punishment.
So we hope to get you off with a fine, which we will undertake to
pay, whatever it may be. Therefore, keep up your pecker, old man,
and believe us to be
"Yours, truly as ever,
"JACK AND FRIENDS."
"Cool, after the way they've served me," was the tutor's mental comment
upon this message; "but the question is, Can the British consul, or any
other man, get me out of the clutches of these ferocious Turks?"
The next night, Mole was able to sleep.
But his sleep was suddenly and fearfully interrupted.
An awful and confused noise, shouting outside, flashing lights through
the bars, the clash of arms and the hurried tramp of men, indicated
that the prison was the scene of some warlike commotion.
Mole started up in a state of great alarm, and struggled towards the
door of his cell.
"Oh, dear, oh, dear!" cried poor Mole, "this is dreadful. Oh, if I was
only a boy again. I would stick to Old England, and never leave it.
There, they are at it again. Oh, dear, why did I leave Mrs. Mole?"
The noise was as if there were a mutiny or outbreak of some kind.
Nearer and nearer came the sound of footsteps, louder and louder
sounded the clashing of arms, and the clanking of chains.
A shout of triumph sounded just outside his cell door, and amidst a
volley of interjections in Turkish and Arabic, he fancied he could hear
English shouts of--
"Hurrah! boys, we shall do it. Open every one of the doors, and set
them all free."
Two heavy bolts were shot back outside, the heavy key was turned in the
lock, Mole's cell door was opened, and in a burst of torch-light
entered groups of armed Bedouin Arabs.
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