Pedro and I turned from the window, and sitting down, with our hands
before our faces, endeavoured to shut out the dreadful sights we had
witnessed. It was satisfactory, however, to believe that Manco had
escaped; and I trusted that he would not fall again into the power of
his enemies. When Sancho entered with a supply of provisions, he found
us so employed.
I do not know whether he suspected that we had some hopes of making our
escape, and wished to warn us of the danger. His manner, I remarked,
was more cordial than usual; and perhaps he did not expect to see us
again. As soon as he had left us, we consulted how we should form a
line to let down out of the window, as our sailor friend had advised.
We hunted about, but could not find even the smallest piece of rope. At
last I suggested that we might tear up one of our shirts, and by
twisting the bits and tying them together, we might make a line long
enough to reach the ground, and strong enough to haul up a thick rope.
We forthwith, therefore, set to work; and having tried each bit as we
fastened it on, we were satisfied that our line would answer our
purpose.
It was nearly dusk by the time we had finished it; and lest some one
should by chance come in and see what we had been about, we hid it away
under the mattress. It was fortunate that we took this precaution, for
just as we had done so the door opened, and a gaoler, accompanied by our
kind friend, Don Eduardo, and another person, entered the room. Don
Eduardo bowed to us, and as he took a seat which Sancho offered him, he
looked at us rather sternly, as much as to signify that we must not
appear on familiar terms.
"I have brought this gentleman to prepare your defence for you, Senores,
as I hear that you are to be tried to-morrow," he said, in a kind tone.
"I am sorry to tell you that it will go hard with you if you cannot
establish your innocence."
"I have to thank you very much, Don Eduardo," I answered; "but all we
can do is to protest our innocence--we have no witnesses. The Indians,
who might have proved that we were ourselves taken prisoners by their
chief, have this morning been shot."
"It is indeed a difficult case," remarked the advocate. "I will do my
best, Don Eduardo; and we must hope that something will appear in their
favour."
I need not repeat all that took place. The advocate asked us a variety
of questions, and made a number of notes; and then rising, followed Don
Eduardo, who stiffly bowed to us as before, out of the room. Sancho,
who went last, turned his head over his shoulder, and shook his head,
with a grave expression on his face, which showed us that he thought our
case was desperate. This circumstance made us more anxious than ever to
effect our escape; and we waited anxiously for the signal the English
sailor had promised us. By degrees the noises inside and outside the
prison died away. People, fatigued with the excitement of the morning,
had retired earlier than usual to their homes, and the square was
totally deserted. It was very dark, for there was no moon, and a thick
mist rising from the river, hung over the town; and what was of more use
to us, there was a strong wind, which howled and moaned among the
buildings, and rattled about the tiles. The time seemed to pass very
slowly; and we began to fancy that the seaman might have been prevented
from fulfilling his intention.
"Perhaps he was watched speaking to us, and has been taken up by the
officers of justice," I remarked.
"Perhaps he was found coming here with a rope in his possession," said
Pedro; "or perhaps he was deceiving us."
"No, I will not believe that," I answered indignantly. "I am sure he is
honest. He is an Englishman and a sailor, there is no mistaking that;
and he did not look or speak like a rogue. Let us hope for the best."
Just as I made this observation, we heard what sounded like the mew of a
kitten, just under the window. We instantly jumped up, and I let down
our line. I felt it gently tugged.
"Haul up," said a voice; and as we got to the end, we found a rope
sufficiently strong to bear a man's weight attached to the end.
"Fasten that to a strong bar; and look out not to make a lubber's knot,"
added the voice.
We did as we were bid; and soon after a strong tug had been given to the
rope, a man's head and shoulders appeared at the window. He looked in
to discover who was in the room.
"All friends here?" he asked.
"Yes, to a friend in need," I replied.
"All right then," he said; and, apparently satisfied, he climbed up
farther, and sat himself down securely on the window-ledge. "Now my
lads, you'd like to get out of this, I suppose," he said, in a careless
tone, which showed that he was in no way agitated by the risk he was
running. "Well, there isn't a moment to be lost; and so I've brought
three files, that we may all work away at the bars together."
Pedro and I took the files he offered us, and waited till he had
examined the bars.
"Here are two together, which seem loosened in their sockets," he
observed. "Now it seems to me, mates, if we were to file away at the
upper part, just below the lowest cross bar, and could wrench out those
two bars, as you are not very stout, there would be room for you two to
slip through."
"I feel sure that we could easily get through," I answered; "but what
are we to do, friend, when we are outside?"
"Never you trouble your head about that, youngster," he replied. "I've
planned it all, and it can't fail; so do you just take the file and work
away."
Thus admonished, Pedro and I began to file away at one bar, while the
sailor attacked the other.
"Don't stop," he whispered; "the noise is much less likely to be noticed
if you go on regularly with it, than it breaks off every now and then."
We filed away accordingly with all our might; but I could not help
trembling at times with alarm lest we should be heard; for though the
wind howled and whistled in a most satisfactory manner, yet there is
something so peculiar in the sound of filing, that I was afraid the
sharp ears of the gaoler or guards might hear it. Pedro and I had got
through more than two-thirds of our bar, and we agreed that we might
easily wrench it out of its place, when our arms began to ache, and as
we rested for a minute, we heard a footstep approaching the room. In
great alarm, we told the sailor.
"Never mind," he answered, quite calmly. "Stow the files away, and lie
down on the bed, and pretend to be fast asleep. I've got a lump of
pitch in my pocket, and I'll just fill up the grooves we've made in the
bars, so that they'll not be observed. There, that will do. Now I'll
just wait down below till your visitor has gone."
We threw ourselves on the bed, as he advised, and listened with intense
anxiety. The footsteps passed by, and we heard doors opening near us.
All was again silent for some time; and we had just sprung up, and were
about to call the sailor, when we heard the footsteps returning. We
threw ourselves down once more on the bed. Just as we had done so, the
door opened, and Sancho, holding a lantern in his hand, put his head
into the room. His two assistants appeared behind him. As the light
flashed on my eyes, I closed them fast.
"All right here, the lads are fast asleep," he said, turning to the men.
"Hillo! Senores, wake up, will you. The governor has received notice
that some stranger was seen this morning, wandering about outside the
prison; and he has sent us round to see that all our inmates were safe.
Just remember, then, that we paid you a visit, that's all. Now go to
sleep again, for you won't have many more nights to rest here. Ha! ha!
ha!"
The men laughed as he said this, as if they thought it a very good joke;
and Pedro and I sat up and rubbed our eyes.
"_Buenos noches_, good night, Senores," he repeated; and to our infinite
satisfaction, without approaching the window, he and his assistants
retired, and closed the door behind them.
We listened till their footsteps had died away in the distance; and then
jumping up, we went to the window, where I gave a low mew, which was
answered by the sailor, who quickly climbed back again to his former
post. I told him in hurried accents what had occurred.
"Never mind," he answered coolly. "More reason for haste. Another
half-hour's work will set you free. Bear a hand about it, then."
His calmness reassured us; and having carefully cleared away the pitch,
we went on filing at the bar as fast as we could. My heart certainly
did beat more rapidly than it had ever done before; for I expected every
moment to be interrupted by the entrance of the gaolers. Fortunately
the wind blew, and the tiles rattled more loudly than ever. At last, to
our great satisfaction, both the bars were almost filed through. The
sailor seized the one he had been working at, and with a powerful
wrench, tore it from the stone window-frame.
"There," he said, giving me the piece of bar. "Put it carefully down.
We will leave it as a legacy behind us."
Pedro and I grasped the other, and with all our strength tore it away.
"Hurra! all right now, mates," said the the sailor, scarcely refraining
from giving a cheer. "Bear a hand, and squeeze through. I'll help
you."
"You go first," said Pedro. "I'll follow you."
I could just manage to squeeze my head and shoulders between the bars;
and with the assistance of the sailor, who hauled away by my collar, I
found myself standing outside them on the window-ledge.
"There won't be room for all of us outside, so do you, mate, just get
hold of the rope and slide down to the ground," observed the sailor.
"Where is it?" I asked, for I could neither see nor feel it.
"Get hold of the bars with your hands, and lower yourself till you get
your feet round the rope. Don't let go with one hand till you've a firm
hold with the other. I'll guide you."
Following his instructions, I lowered my body over the window-sill till
I could grasp the rope with my hands, when without much difficulty I
slid down to the ground. For an instant my satisfaction at being once
more outside the prison walls made me forget the risk we ran of being
recaptured, and the difficulties we had still to undergo. I stood
anxiously watching for the appearance of my companions; for it was so
dark that I could not distinguish them even at the short distance
between the ground and the window. In moments such as those, each one
appears an age, and I trembled for our safety. At last I saw a figure
gliding down the rope. It was Pedro. Scarcely had he reached the
ground when the sailor was by my side.
"Now, mates," he whispered, "let's hold on to each other, and put our
best legs foremost. I've a canoe ready on the banks of the river, and
we may be far away before our flight is discovered."
We lost no time in words, but taking each other's hands that we might
not be separated, we ran as fast as we could across the square, guided
by the sailor, who had taken the bearings of some lights he told us to
steer by. Owing to the stormy weather and the late hour, no one was
crossing the square; indeed, even the most callous were probably
inclined to avoid the spot where the Indians had been executed in the
morning. We must have passed close to it. At last we reached the side
of the river, but had not hit the place where the sailor had left the
canoe. Here was another difficulty. Could any one have removed it? We
groped about for some time in vain.
"Can you both swim?" asked the sailor.
"Yes; but it's a long way across, and there are perhaps crocodiles in
the water," I answered.
"Better be drowned or swallowed up by a crocodile, my lads, than retaken
by those land-sharks," he observed. "It must come to that if we cannot
find the canoe."
Pedro and I agreed to this; and, though we had not our full strength, we
prepared to take the swim, trusting to the brave fellow's assistance.
"Well, I see there's some risk, so we'll have another hunt for the canoe
first," he observed. "Stay, I think it's lower down the stream."
He was right. Directly afterwards, to our great satisfaction, we
stumbled upon the canoe. To launch it was the work of a moment; but
though we hunted in every direction, we could only find one paddle.
"One must do," said the sailor. "I can manage. No time to be lost,
though."
Saying this, he stepped in first, and seated himself in the stern, with
the paddle in his hand. He then turned the head of the canoe to the
bank, and told Pedro and me to creep in carefully over the bow. We did
so, and placed ourselves by his direction along the bottom. A stroke of
his paddle then turned the canoe round, and we floated rapidly down the
stream. I listened for any sound to indicate that we were followed, but
nothing could be heard above the howling of the wind in the trees.
Neither of us uttered a word, not that there was much chance of being
heard by any one on shore. The water bubbled and hissed round us, and
the wind threw it in sheets of spray over our heads. At times it came
rippling over the sides of the canoe, and there seemed a prospect of its
being filled; but the seaman held on his course without hesitation. We
had shot quickly by the few lights which here and there twinkled from
the houses, and were beginning to breathe more freely, thinking that we
had altogether got clear of the town, when I fancied I heard the splash
of oars behind us. I could not tell if the sailor had heard the sound,
but he seemed to ply his paddle with even greater vigour than before.
Once or twice he turned his head for an instant, which confirmed me in
the idea that we were followed; but even his practised eye could not
pierce the darkness which shrouded us. At last I saw that he had
relaxed in his efforts, and that he kept his paddle moving sufficiently
only to guide the canoe as it dropped down with the current. We had
been a couple of hours in the canoe, or perhaps not quite so long,
though the anxiety we felt made the time pass slowly.
"Well, I believe it was only a cayman or an alligator, or one of those
sort of brutes, after all," he exclaimed, drawing a deep breath, like a
man relieved from a heavy care.
"I have not been able yet to thank you, friend, for what you have
already done for us; but I should like to know what you propose doing
next," said I, as soon as I found we might venture to speak.
"Well, that's just what I was thinking of, mate, myself," he answered.
"But you needn't thank me, for to my mind, I haven't done much for you
yet. All I have had time for was to get you out of limbo, and afloat on
this here river. We must now hold a council of war, to know what's to
be done."
As he said this, he made the canoe glide in towards the nearest bank.
We quickly found ourselves in a quiet bay, overhung with trees, into
which we had by chance entered. The sailor held on by the bough of a
tree, which served to keep the canoe from floating out again. The wind
had much abated, and the sky had become much clearer, so that there was
sufficient light to enable us to steer free of any dangers in the middle
of the stream; though where we now were we should have been completely
concealed from the sight of persons on board any boat which might have
been passing, or even of one sent in search of us.
"Well," said the sailor, "what do you propose, mate?"
"I must first ask you whereabouts we are," I answered. "I promised an
Indian who preserved my life, to return to him before I left the
country, but I cannot tell where he is now to be found. Our wisest plan
would be to try and reach the sea, so as to get on board some English
ship. I do not think we shall be safe till then."
"What has your friend, then, to say to the matter?" said the sailor.
"He does not understand English, but I will ask him."
Pedro replied that he thought we should be guided by the sailor, who had
already helped us so much.
The sailor seemed pleased with the answer.
"Why, then, I'll try and do my best for you, mates," he said. "You see
we are about ten miles away from your prison, and somewhere close upon
two hundred miles from the nearest port where we are likely to fall in
with any English ship. The Spaniards don't encourage them to come
openly into their ports with the high duties they clap on, though
there's a good deal of smuggling on the coast; and more than half the
British manufactures used in the country are landed without paying a
farthing of duty. I would rather stick to the river as long as we
could; but then, you see, it's the very place the Spaniards are likely
to send to look for us. So I propose that we pull down some five or six
miles further, where there are some rapids which we cannot pass, and
then we will land on the south bank, and make our way over towards the
country they call Chili, though it's hot enough, to my mind, at times.
We might manage, to be sure, to get across the mountains, and launch a
canoe upon one of the streams which run into the river of the Amazons.
It's a long way, to be sure, but others have gone down the river; and I
don't see, if we can keep stout hearts in our bodies, why we shouldn't.
When one man has done a thing, I always think another may, if he set the
right way about it."
"A voyage down the river of the Amazons!" I exclaimed. "The very thing
I should be delighted to accomplish. I do not care for the dangers or
hardships we shall have to encounter. I say, let us try it by all
means. I am sure Pedro will agree. We must first try and find my
friend Manco, the Indian chief, if he should have escaped from his
enemies."