Breaking Out
What a picture a snapshot photographic artist could have made of that
scene in the narrow cell occupied by Geoff and Philip for so many weary
weeks, and into which the unctuous and scheming von Hildemaller had
thrust himself so unexpectedly. A portrayal alone of the features of
that huge and unwieldy German would by itself have provided a picture of
consuming interest. That is to say, a portrayal of what features were
left visible now that Geoff's strong muscular hand was tightly clasped
across them. For above the hand there were left merely the
closely-cropped head which gave the Teuton such an uncouth appearance, a
forehead broad enough to give the impression of brain-power, a pair of
eyes, deepset enough as a rule, and sparkling with suppressed humour if
it happened to be a stranger who looked into them, with suppressed
cunning if the observer knew the man, eyes now projecting in a hideous
manner over the strong fingers which gripped below. And below those eyes
a stubby nose, from which burst gusts of air as von Hildemaller grunted
his astonishment. Underneath the hand, there was left just an edge of
the somewhat square and determined chin possessed by this extraordinary
individual. As for the rest of him--the huge body, the arms, the
legs--all were in motion, writhing, kicking, plunging, striking out and
tearing at the captor who gripped him so firmly.
"The gag!" Geoff called softly to Philip, who, appreciating the
situation in an instant, had leapt from his position near the door to
assist his comrade; "it's in my left hand. Jam it into his mouth as I
force it open."
In a moment Philip had the gag, and, standing by, made ready to
introduce it.
"Supposing he shouts though?" he asked.
"He won't," said Geoff abruptly. "When he opens his jaws it'll be with a
jump, for I'll squeeze him. Ready?"
There was an emphatic nod from Philip, while the gay features of the
young subaltern were again smiling jovially; he was grinning indeed, a
grin of pure delight and triumph. Then those powerful fingers of our
hero sought the interval on one cheek between the upper and the lower
jaw, while his thumb sought the similar spot on the other cheek. A
second later he pressed fingers and thumbs together and shot the
German's mouth wide open, displaying a huge cavity out of which not a
sound could come, for even if the grip on his jaw had not incapacitated
von Hildemaller, the grip which Geoff's left arm now had round his bulky
chest, the crushing power with which he compressed it, had driven all
the breath out of the Teuton's body.
"In she goes, pop!" gurgled Philip, thrusting the gag in between that
double row of yellow teeth. "Now we bind her!"
Quick as a flash he ran the strings from the edge of the gag out
through the corners of the open mouth, and bound them tightly behind the
German's neck. He needed no further instruction from his chum, seeing
that the two had discussed the matter so very often, had discussed it,
let us remember, not in connection with the tricing up of a visitor--a
visitor so unexpected as von Hildemaller--but in connection with their
Turkish jailer.
"Somehow I'd have been sorry for him," Philip murmured, as he seized the
blanket-ropes already prepared, and tied von Hildemaller's wrists behind
his back.
"What, this beggar?"
"No, no! I was thinking of the jailer. I'd have been somehow sorry for
him, for he's been such a decent fellow, such a friendly beggar,"
corrected Philip. "But this chap! Jingo, ain't it jolly!"
He set about the completion of the job in a manner which showed his
delight almost better than words could do, and in a trice had von
Hildemaller's wrists most scientifically tied together, and his elbows
pulled so close that movement of his upper limbs was out of the
question. Then, at a nod from Geoff, these two powerful young fellows
gripped the heavy German and lifted him, as if he were a babe, to the
wooden divan. It took, perhaps, another two minutes to secure his legs
and ankles, and to leave him like a helpless bundle.
"And now?" asked Philip, mopping his forehead, for the work had been
furious while it lasted.
"We move!" declared Geoff promptly. "It's getting dusk already, and it's
quite dark in this cell. Though, 'pon my word, von Hildemaller's eyes
pierce the dusk like gimlets. My word! If only he were free and could do
his worst for us! Now let's put the money we promised the Turk on this
table, and then go. No time like the present."
They were indeed in the position of being unable to choose the time for
the attempt to regain their liberty. In any case they were bound to
seize the first opportunity that came, to seize it whenever it came,
regardless of the hour or of the circumstances. But the coming of von
Hildemaller had forced their hand in a manner neither had anticipated.
He had, as it were, complicated their difficulties; for, now that he was
secured, trussed like a bird, and laid out helpless, there was still the
Turkish jailer to be considered--the man they had proposed to capture,
the man who, once shut up in the cell, gagged and triced just as was von
Hildemaller, would be out of the way, unlikely to run up against them in
the corridor outside, unable to give the alarm and let others know that
they were escaping.
"Can't be helped, the change in our plans," said Geoff, as he took
another look at the German; "just squint outside, Phil, and tell me
whether there's anyone in the corridor. If not, we'll pull off our boots
and make our way along it in stockinged feet. Of course, if the jailer
turns up, well, we'll have to be guided by circumstances."
In any case there was no time for discussion, no opportunity for making
further or other plans, nothing to do but seize the opportunity, strike
while the iron was hot, and free themselves from this prison. To strip
off their boots and tuck them into their belts was the work of a moment,
and then, unarmed but strong as lions--thanks to their own forethought
and energy--they tiptoed into the corridor outside and stole rapidly
along it, having gently pulled the iron door of their cell to upon the
German. Some twenty paces along they found themselves at the head of a
short flight of stone steps, and were quickly at the bottom. A turn to
the left took them along another corridor, and then both suddenly
halted.
"Voices--men talking--the jailer."
Philip nodded.
"The jailer and that fellow who often visited us with him. They're in
that room to the left, the door of which is ajar, and the sooner we pass
it the better."
Stealing forward again they were soon opposite a massive iron door,
similar to the one which had closed their cell, and, halting for a
moment, listened to the conversation of the two men within it. Listened
long enough to assure themselves that they were right, and that within
the cell their jailer and his friend were certainly seated. Then they
moved on again, and, traversing a long corridor and turning to their
right, found themselves in a different part of the prison. They had
reached, in fact, an entrance-hall, as it were, out of which a heavy,
barred door led, probably to the open.
"Locked and barred," said Geoff, inspecting it rapidly and as well as
the dusk would allow; "no way out for us there, I think. Now, what
happens?"
"S--sh! Someone coming," whispered Phil, "someone coming down the
stairs, I think. From the sounds he is making he is coming towards us."
For a moment or two they stared in the direction from which the noise of
feet descending the stairway had come to them, and then looked
desperately about them, for not even the dusk in that big entrance-hall
would prevent them from being discovered once an individual was within
some yards of them. What were they to do? Bolt back towards the cell
they had so recently vacated? Stand still and chance discovery and
recognition? Or advance and throw themselves upon the individual who was
approaching? Geoff threw out a hand and caught Philip by the sleeve,
pulling him towards his left, towards the door which he had been so
recently examining, pulled him in fact into the angle the door made with
the heavy stone pillar which supported it. No one in his wildest
thoughts could have described it as a safe hiding-place, no one in fact
in similar circumstances would have willingly entrusted his chances of
liberty to it, or would have leapt at the scanty security it barely
offered. Yet it was a chance, a chance in a hundred, the only chance the
occasion could produce, the only spot possible for Geoff and Philip. And
there together they crouched against the stone pillar, wishing that the
dusk might grow rapidly deeper, and that some friendly shadow would cast
itself about them and hide them from the eyes of the intruder.
Those seconds which followed were long-drawn-out, agonizing seconds,
seconds during which the slow, plodding, heavy footsteps which they had
heard descending the stairway drew nearer, and nearer, and nearer. Then
a figure came into view, a figure but dimly illuminated, which, reaching
the centre of the hall, came to a halt, while the man--for undoubtedly
it was a man--peered about him inquisitively, as if seeking for
something, as if he too had heard sounds, sounds which had roused his
curiosity and perhaps his suspicion. It gave the two young subalterns
hiding in that shady corner quite an unpleasant start, sent quite a
chill through their frames when they first cast their eyes on that
figure.
"Von Hildemaller!" said Geoff under his breath, speaking to himself in
fact. "Now, how----?"
Philip moved and nudged his comrade.
"That beast," Geoff heard him whisper; "he's got out somehow! But how?
I----"
"S--sh! It's not. It's a Turk, awfully like him," Geoff whispered back,
putting his lips close to Philip's ear. "Not a word more or he may hear
us."
True enough, the figure dallying in the centre of the hall was indeed
almost a facsimile of that of the ponderous von Hildemaller. Of moderate
height and thickset, his feet encased in Turkish slippers, the man's
general appearance was alarmingly like that of the German, while, dimly
to be seen through the dusk now settling deeper about the hall, were the
ends of a pair of moustaches quite as fierce and flowing as those
proudly flaunted by the German. Only the head was different, for it was
bald, and perched on the back of it was a fez. Evidently, too, if this
new-comer had had his suspicions roused, if he had actually heard sounds
as he descended the stairs, he had now brushed the matter aside and was
prepared to treat it as a delusion, as something easily explainable; for
he moved on again, crossing the stone-flagged hall with heavy steps, and
passing out into the dusk beyond, in the direction from which Geoff and
Philip were escaping. It was then that Geoff mopped his forehead with
what was left of a somewhat dilapidated and dirty handkerchief, while
Philip allowed a breath of astonishment to escape his lips in a subdued
whistle.
"Jingo!" he exclaimed; "that's a near one!"
"The Governor!" Geoff said. "The Governor, I'm sure. Ponderous and
filled with dignity, a regular second von Hildemaller. But come along,
we've no time to wait. Let's move on up the stairs and see what sort of
a place the fellow came from."
Still in their stockinged feet, with their boots tucked in between their
belts and their bodies, the two crossed the hall and ran lightly up a
stone staircase. Turning abruptly as the stairs twisted upward, they
presently reached a doorway where their further progress was barred by a
door, framed in iron like that which had shut the opening from their
cell, every feature of which they had studied so completely.
"Bah!" exclaimed Philip in disgust. "Trapped inside the place."
"Don't let's shout till we're hurt," said Geoff resolutely. "Perhaps it
isn't locked; we'll try it; here's the latch. Hallo! It opens!"
"And we go through, as a matter of course. Wonder what the Governor'd
say if he knew that his two prisoners were about to investigate his
quarters?"
More stairs faced them, but a short flight, the top of which they
reached in a few moments, to find themselves in a wider corridor from
which three or four doors gave access to rooms, the first of which was
spacious and airy, and lit by windows which looked down into a central
courtyard. The second was airy, like the first--even larger--with divans
spread here and there, and a carpeted floor, while its windows, like
those of the other room, had a similar outlook. A hasty inspection of
the third showed it to be a sleeping apartment, while the fourth
provided, without doubt, the quarters for the Governor's servant.
"And the windows? Let's take a squint out of them," said Geoff as he
crossed the room rapidly towards them. "Beast of a drop, eh?"
"But possible if one had a rope," said Philip, pushing his head out of
the open window and imbibing the first breath of fresh air for some
weeks past. "Bedding's what we want, and food. There was some in that
big room with the divans."
For a while they stood peering out of the window and measuring the
distance between it and the ground below--a drop of quite fifty feet,
but a drop the bottom of which provided open country, a drop which, if
it could be accomplished, would give them liberty and would set them
outside the prison.
"Stop a minute!" said Geoff suddenly, as a thought struck him. "There
doesn't seem to be another entrance to these quarters, and, seeing that
we are in occupation for the moment, and can't afford to be disturbed,
why, we'll lock the Governor out. Let's get back to the door at once and
see if it's possible."
The very suggestion set the amiable Philip grinning; the cheek of such
an action delighted him intensely, and was just the sort of thing that
jovial subaltern could appreciate fully. He was out in the corridor in a
moment, and, running along it in his stockinged feet, soon reached the
door beyond. Then Geoff heard him shoot a couple of bolts, and watched
as he came smiling back towards him.
"Case reversed," grinned Philip, as if he were making an official
report. "Prisoners, a little while before, locked into a cell, are now
prisoners no longer, but have locked their jailers out. And next, sir?
What about that food?"
It was Geoff's turn to smile, for he too had caught sight of a dish of
fruit in the Governor's sitting-room, of some Turkish sweet-cakes, and
of a carafe, probably containing water. Better still, the aroma of
coffee tickled his nostrils as he entered the room occupied by the
Governor's servants, at the door of which he was now standing. A swift
glance showed him a Turkish brazier, a kettle of Turkish design above
it, from the opening of which steam issued. He dived into the room again
and sniffed at that steam, sniffed and smacked his lips with
appreciation.
"Coffee, my boy! All ready!" he said. "But don't let's do things in too
great a hurry; let's look round first for something with which to make a
rope. We shall be sorry, of course, to inconvenience the Governor, or to
damage his property, but the cushions over those divans, if cut into
strips and twisted, would do the trick splendidly; while, if they ain't
strong enough, there are carpets and rugs which must be sacrificed for
the purpose."
"And cushions enough to drop from the window and break a fall in case we
have to jump for it," laughed Philip. "Let's bring the grub along here,
and the cushions and what not, then we shall be ready in case the alarm
is raised; for, once there is a hue and cry, sentries, no doubt, will be
posted outside the building, and long before that we ought to be away
from it."
It was tantalizing to have to leave that steaming odoriferous coffee,
but undoubtedly the question of safety came first, now that liberty lay
within their grasp. The two resolutely put all other thoughts aside, and
rapidly made their preparations to accomplish their object.
Magnificently embroidered cushions decked the divans in the Governor's
sitting-room. There were rugs, too, which were perhaps of priceless
value--Turkish rugs which, it may be, had been manufactured years
before, and would have commanded in London or any European city a
fabulous sum, far beyond the somewhat shallow depths of a subaltern's
pocket.
"Sorry! Frightfully!" Philip grinned, as he deliberately slit one of the
cushion-covers--a cushion, by the way, not of ordinary dimensions, but
some seven feet in length and as many broad; a regular mattress, indeed,
upon which, no doubt, the bulky Governor was wont to recline during his
moments of leisure. It may have been the act of a vandal to destroy such
a handsome covering, and at any other time, no doubt, Philip would have
hesitated, for he was not such a scamp that he would deliberately
destroy goods of such value and elegance.
"But it's our liberty or the Governor's goods," he grinned a little
sheepishly at Geoff, as he dug the blade of his knife in again and sent
the stuff ripping.
Nor was his comrade behindhand in the work, and already had stripped
another of the enormous cushions. Perhaps it took them ten minutes,
perhaps even longer, to construct from the strips of strong material a
twisted rope made up of a number of lengths firmly knotted together,
knots which they tested by a form of tug-of-war, dragging at opposite
ends of their rope to be sure that it would provide a safe means of
descent to the bottom of their prison. Then, lashing one end fast to
the stone window-post, and coiling the other end in preparation, they
went once more to the Governor's room, and staggered back again carrying
a number of those huge cushions.
"And now for coffee and something to eat!" said Geoff. "What we can't
finish now of the fruit and cakes we'll carry with us. Better still, as
we're not particularly hungry at the moment, supposing we drink the
coffee, which will take only a few moments, and finish the other when we
have secured our liberty."
They had poured out two steaming cups of coffee, and were sniffing the
contents with delight, when a sudden shout, a clamour in some portion of
the prison, caused them to arrest the progress of the cups to their lips
and listen. There were more shouts, a howl from some distant quarter,
and then a loud hammering. As if determined not to be upset by any sort
of commotion, and not to be robbed of a golden opportunity--for such
coffee as this now underneath their noses had not been tasted by our two
heroes during the long weeks of their captivity--Geoff resolutely raised
his cup to his lips and drained the contents, smacking his lips
afterwards in a manner not perhaps too polite, but very indicative of
his feelings. Philip followed suit, and, gripping the kettle,
replenished both cups, as if determined that he too would not be
hurried. Then, setting the empty cups down beside the stove, they left
the room, and, darting along the passage, peered out of the windows
which gave access to the courtyard.
There were men down below--Turkish soldiers--some fully dressed and some
in their shirt-sleeves. They were running hither and thither as though
confused, and as though ignorant of the cause of the alarm which had
just been given. Then, as Geoff and Philip looked, a door to their right
at the foot of the courtyard was suddenly torn open, and a figure rolled
rather than ran out, a man who tripped on the lowest step and fell face
downward, only to bound to his feet again and rush off till he was in
amongst the soldiers. Undoubtedly there was something behind him which
was accelerating his progress, and which had made his entrance into the
courtyard anything but dignified, abrupt, in fact, startlingly sudden
and unexpected. It was something which appeared within a moment, someone
who dashed after the unfortunate jailer, a fat man, wearing a fez at the
back of his head--undoubtedly the Turkish governor--followed by another
of similar proportions, broad and stout and beefy, with closely cropped
head, a man who shouted and hurled threats through the doorway.
"Von Hildemaller!" gasped Geoff. "Someone's discovered him, someone's
set him free! Perhaps it was the jailer."
"Or perhaps the Governor," Philip added. "He must have known that von
Hildemaller was coming to see us; he must have given him permission.
That's it, and when he came down the steps to the hall he was on the way
to see what had happened. Lor'! what a shock he must have had when he
discovered our German friend tied up like a bundle, and the two
prisoners usually in that cell disappeared, gone entirely."
For a few moments the two watched the Governor and the German as they
raged amongst the soldiers in the courtyard. Catching the unfortunate
jailer, they beat him with their fists unmercifully, and no doubt, had
one of them possessed a weapon, or had they thought to borrow a rifle
from one of the soldiers, they would have shot him. Instead, they vented
their fury on the man by beating him, and when he fell to the ground, so
as to escape their blows, they kicked him in the most furious manner. As
one can imagine, too, their anger, the shouts to which they gave vent,
the sudden apparition of the jailer and his two tormentors, did not tend
to lessen the agitation and perplexity of the Turkish soldiers. Even
now, nothing had been said by which they could gather precisely what had
happened, for there had been no mention of the two British prisoners, of
their escape, and of the curious position in which von Hildemaller had
been discovered. Breathless, and not a little fearful, they watched the
scene going on in their midst, waiting for some word which would clear
up the situation; and suddenly it came, when von Hildemaller and the
Governor were breathless after their exertions, were satisfied with the
blows and kicks they had rained on the jailer. It was the Governor, in
fact, who suddenly recollected that his first business should have been
to seek for the prisoners, for the jailer was always there, and could be
punished on some future occasion. He suddenly swung round upon the
startled soldiers and bawled orders at them.
"The prisoners," he bellowed, "the two British prisoners; they have
escaped, I tell you! You numskulls, why have you not guessed it? Ah, but
perhaps you are in collusion with this wretched jailer! Search the
prison! Search every part of it! Be off with you! Give me a rifle, so
that I may go to my quarters and there watch for these young ruffians.
Come, von Hildemaller," he said, gripping the sleeve of the perspiring
German, "to my quarters. From there every part of this courtyard and of
the ground outside is visible. If we clamber to the roof there is none
who may leave the place without our seeing him. Snatch a rifle from one
of these fools and come with me. Then, should the prisoners elect to
leave whilst we are watching, you will be able to put in a shot which
will punish them for what has happened."
"Time to be going," Geoff told Phil, and his chum agreed with an
emphatic nod which showed his willingness.
"Then out with the rope. It's lighter here than it seemed to be in the
courtyard; but no matter, we've got to make the best of it, and, I can
tell you, it will want quite a lot to stop us."
"It will!" the enthusiastic Phil admitted, with one of his happy,
encouraging smiles. "You may take it from me, my boy, it ain't going to
be von Hildemaller--or whatever's his name--or any Turk that's going to
lag me this time if I can help it. There goes the rope and another
cushion. Jingo! They've landed splendidly, and I believe if this old
rope lets us down, and breaks of a sudden, we should land quite
comfortably at the bottom. Who goes first--you?"
"Either. I don't mind. Out you go--you're nearest."
Phil made no bones about the matter, and wasted no time and no breath in
attempting to argue the question. He was on the window-sill in a
moment, and, swinging himself out, gripped the rope, and with splendid
youthful assurance at once trusted his life to it. Geoff watched him
slithering down, stopping every few feet as his hands and feet came into
contact with the knots they had made, till at last he was at the bottom.
Meanwhile the shouts and noise about the prison had increased in
proportion if anything, while sounds, echoed by the stone, vault-like
walls of the place and the large corridors, came even to the Governor's
quarters. Steps could be heard on the stairs which led to the door--now
firmly bolted--and the panting of at least two individuals. Then blows
were rained upon it, and voices shouted to those within to open. The
Turkish governor--for undoubtedly it was he, with von Hildemaller at his
elbow--jerked angry threats through the keyhole, and bellowed loud
orders to his servants to admit him. And had Geoff been able to watch
the scene he would have observed the worthy von Hildemaller leaning
against the stone door-post, his face a purplish colour, his nose
shining, his eyes, still prominent, flashing angrily and indicating the
temper and hatred which consumed him, while his wide lips were set
apart, the moustache--that moustache so disagreeably stained with the
smoke of cigarettes--was distinctly bristling, and the teeth were set in
a snarl which, had the Turkish governor had time to take note of it,
would perhaps have scared him considerably. For the rest, the German was
out of breath, utterly unnerved by what had happened, positively shaking
in every limb, perspiring more heavily than he had ever done before, and
spasmodically dabbing at his face with his red handkerchief.
"Open, fools, dolts, wretches!" shouted the Governor, and then turned
despairingly to the German.
"What--what next?" demanded von Hildemaller fiercely, panting half-way
through the sentence.
"There's something wrong. I cannot make these dolts of servants of mine
hear me. The place is locked, and yet I left the door unlatched when I
came down to visit you but a few moments ago. The thing is
inexplicable."
If the Turkish governor found the matter hard of understanding and
difficult to explain, the wily, cunning von Hildemaller rapidly saw to
the bottom of it. A man such as he, gifted with a scheming brain, was
just the one to realize that prisoners interned in such a place and
escaped from their cell were yet not at large nor at liberty. This was
just the reckless sort of thing that those British subalterns would do.
It was like their effrontery to usurp the place of the Governor himself
and secrete themselves in his quarters.
"Bah!" he yelped in the face of the Turk. "Then your servants are not
the only dolts and fools that I know of. Can you not see that the door
has been locked from within--or rather bolted? You are shut out of your
own quarters, and by whom? By whom, tell me? By none other than those
two whom we are seeking. Break the door open! Beat it in! Call for men
to bring hammers!"
It was indeed time for Geoff to be moving, for if the Governor and his
companion were making a considerable din outside that door, shouts were
coming from other parts of the prison. Those of the soldiers who had not
entirely lost their heads, or who had not absolutely been bereft of
their better senses by the violence of the Governor and the German,
were now making a complete search of the place, while some of them were
at that moment dragging the outside door of the prison open. Geoff
clambered through the window, gripped the knotted rope, and began to
slide rapidly downwards. Yet he was not to reach the ground without a
further, if only a small, adventure; for that improvised rope, strained
as it had been by supporting Philip's weight, succumbed to that of our
hero. It parted at one of the knots a foot above his head and some
thirty from the ground, and a moment later Geoff found himself plunging
on to one of those cushions which they had so thoughtfully dropped to
provide against such an occasion. There Philip gripped him and steadied
him, helping him to his feet.
"What now?" he asked.
"Round to the back of the prison. I heard some of the beggars pulling
the front door open. Thank goodness, it's getting darker every second,
and if we can only hide for some five or ten minutes we shall be safe
for to-night at least. Lor'! Look at the fruit I had in my
pocket--smashed to a pulp."
Philip shook him, and then the two turned away from the scene of their
escape and ran softly along beside the wall of the prison. Gaining the
farther end, they turned a corner, and then, at a suggestion from Geoff,
Philip ran on to the opposite corner. Thus they were able to watch two
sides of the prison, and could warn one another if an enemy were
approaching. Fortune favoured them, favoured those two young fellows who
had so cleverly achieved their escape, and the darkness, settling down
over the country, safely hid them from view, while the noise of the
searchers within and without the prison subsided.
"And now?" asked Philip, when it was quite certain that they were not
likely to be apprehended.
"Oh----! 'Now,' well, that wants some deciding."
Geoff scratched his dishevelled head of hair and pondered, for indeed
the matter was one which would have taxed the wisdom of an older
man--even the cunning of von Hildemaller. For they were out in the open,
free of their cell it was true, but yet in an enemy country, surrounded
by Turks, without a friend to appeal to. Yet what they had done so far
gave them encouragement for the future.
"We'll have to be like that Mr. Micawber of Dickens," said Phil, as they
crouched beside the wall, "we'll just have to wait for something to turn
up, and you bet your boots something's bound to."