A DASH FOR LIBERTY.
Aching in every joint, and too worn out to either move or speak, Howard
Sherwood threw himself down on the hard bench in his narrow stone cell
in the Marambo prison, and was soon fast asleep.
When he awoke, there were faint streaks of dawn in the east, and
presently a single ray of sunshine shone in at the narrow window high
over his head. The glad light shone but a few minutes, then it passed
on, not to return until the next day, for the window was scarcely four
inches wide, and would admit the sun only when that luminary occupied a
position directly opposite.
A tramping in the prison yard beyond had aroused Howard--the tramp of a
number of other unfortunates who were taking their daily exercise.
Howard hoped that he, too, would be given an opportunity to fill his
lungs with fresh air, but this boon was denied him. He was kept in
solitary confinement until almost the noon hour, the only one to visit
him being a jailer, who brought a bowl of cooked meal and a piece of
black bread.
"How long am I to remain here?" questioned Howard, but the jailer
merely shook his head.
"Cannot talk to you, señor," he said. "Against Captain Nocolo's orders."
"Is the captain around?"
"No, he went off to battle."
Howard placed his hand in his bosom, where he had a number of gold
pieces concealed. He drew out one of the pieces, and held it before the
jailer's eyes.
"Why not be friendly, and talk to me a little," he said, suggestively.
At the sight of the gold the jailer's eyes glistened. He walked to the
corridor, looked out to see that no one was in sight, then came back
and held out his grimy hand.
"I am a poor man, otherwise I would not take the señor's money," he
said, apologetically. "What is it the señor wishes to know?"
"How long I am to remain here."
"I cannot answer that. It depends upon the orders received from Captain
Nocolo and Lieutenant Mazenas."
"They are in charge here?"
"Yes. Captain Nocolo takes charge of the rebel prisoners from the
plantations, and Lieutenant Mazenas the prisoners from along the line
of the railroad."
"Where have these two gone?"
"Off to the battle, back of Señor Corona's plantations. The rebels are
there, burning the cane-fields."
At these words Howard was much astonished.
"Is Señor Corona's estate close by?" he questioned.
"Less than a mile away."
"And they are fighting there, on the place?"
"The rebels have not yet reached the place itself, I believe, but they
are fast approaching. But they're but a handful, and they will soon be
subdued--either killed or taken prisoners."
The young war correspondent was not assured by this explanation. The
fighting was close to Estella's home, and if she were there, she would
be in grave peril! Oh, if he were but free to fly to her!
"Do you know much of Captain Nocolo?" he questioned.
"Very little, señor; I am a new man here."
"And how much do they pay you for working here?"
The man's face fell. "As yet I have received nothing but promises," he
murmured. "The Government cannot collect the taxes, and so--"
"You must suffer, eh?"
"That is it, señor. But we have promises----"
"Which may never be fulfilled." Howard drew closer. "Listen: I just
gave you a piece of gold. Let me throw you to the floor and take your
key from you, and I will give you ten more pieces of the same weight.
I am an innocent man, so you will commit no crime by helping me to
freedom."
The jailer contemplated Howard in silence and indecision; but as the
prisoner brought out the golden pieces his eyes blazed with greediness.
"Give them to me, señor," he eagerly whispered. "I will let you go. But
you must swear not to betray me!"
"Enough; you have my word. Here is the money. Quick! which way can I
leave the prison the easiest?"
The jailer snatched the gold and put it in his pocket. Then with a leap
he reached the cell door.
"You remain where you are!" he shouted, in mockery. "I am no fool
to----"
He got no farther. With the rapidity of lightning Howard bounded toward
him, clutched him by the throat, and dashed him to the floor.
"Knave!" he whispered, as he bent over him, his knee on his breast, his
hand once more on his throat! "Dare to make a sound, and I will squeeze
the life out of you!"
The eyes of the frightened man bulged from their sockets. He tried to
speak, to beg for mercy, but he could scarcely breathe. Howard held him
down until he was all but unconscious, then took from him, first his
keys, then his knife, and lastly all the golden pieces he had given to
him.
"Mercy!" gasped the jailer. "Do--not--kill--me!"
"Silence!" whispered Howard.
The jailer had a girdle of canvas around his waist. This the young war
correspondent used to bind the man's hands and tie him fast to the
bench, first, however, taking from him his coat. Then he gagged him by
shoving a big piece of the black bread in his mouth and keeping it in
place by tying his handkerchief over it and around the back of the head.
"Now remain quiet. If you kick, or otherwise make a noise, I will come
back and finish you. Do you understand?"
Almost white with terror, the jailer nodded, shivering as Howard
flourished the keen-edged knife before his face. Coward to the core, he
was completely subdued.
As quickly as possible Howard donned the jailer's coat, then he placed
the fellow's hat on his head, drawing it well over his eyes. The floor
of the cell was covered with dust, and this the young war correspondent
did not hesitate to rub over his face and hands. He was essaying a
desperate game, and he must avail himself of every possible chance to
escape detection.
Once outside of the cell, he locked the door. Then he peered up and
down the corridor. Another jailer was coming along, several bowls of
food in hand, and he turned and walked in the opposite direction.
"Guito!" cried the approaching man, but Howard pretended not to hear,
and turned an angle in the corridor to get out of sight.
Soon he came to a door, and, opening it, passed out into the prison
yard. It was paved with stone and surrounded by a wall fifteen feet
high. To climb this was now the all-important question.
Two prisoners were in the yard, sweeping up some refuse that had
accumulated there. Each was chained to an iron ball which weighed at
least fifty pounds. Both of their faces bore the hopeless look of those
who have suffered confinement for years.
Howard turned back into the prison, and began to search for a stairway
leading to the second story. It was soon found, and he mounted
silently, his ears strained to catch the first sound of an alarm.
The upper floor of the prison gained, Howard began to make an
examination of the windows. They were all either heavily barred, or too
narrow to admit the passage of his body.
Turning from them regretfully, yet full of hope still, he made his
way to a set of rooms marked "Private Office." A door was ajar, and,
peering in, he saw a luxuriously furnished apartment. To his great joy,
he saw that it was empty.
He slipped inside, and perceived that he had entered a room used by the
keeper of the prison as an office. On the walls hung various weapons,
and on a desk lay half a dozen large books of prison records.
The records did not just then interest him, and he turned to one of the
two windows. Both were shut and barred, but to his intense delight he
saw that in one place a bar was loose.
He was trying to noiselessly open the window, when he heard rapid
footsteps in the corridor without. The footsteps came closer, and
Howard had just time to conceal himself behind a big arm-chair, when
the door was flung open and Captain Nocolo entered, followed by the
head-keeper of the prison.
"Yes, I want to interview this Howard Sherwood," Captain Nocolo was
saying. "He is a----"
An alarm from below cut short his words. Howard's escape had been
discovered, and in less than a minute the wildest excitement prevailed.
"Guard every door, every window, and all the walls!" was the order
issued. "He has not yet left the building, and must be found!"