It was fully an hour before Polani was recalled to the council chamber.
He saw at once, by the flushed and angry faces of some of the council,
that the debate had been a hot one. At this he was not surprised, for
he knew that the friends and connections of Ruggiero Mocenigo would
vehemently oppose the suggestion he had made.
The doge announced the decision.
"The council thank you for your suggestion, Signor Polani, and have
resolved, by a majority, to confer upon Messer Francisco Hammond the
high honour of placing his name upon the list of the citizens of
Venice, without requiring from him the oaths of allegiance to the
state. As such an honour has never before been conferred, save upon
personages of the highest rank, it will be a proof of the gratitude
which Venice feels towards one who has done her such distinguished
service. The decree to that effect will be published tomorrow."
The merchant retired, highly gratified. The honour was a great and
signal one, and the material advantages considerable. The fact that
Francis was a foreigner had been the sole obstacle which had presented
itself to him, in associating him with his business, for it would
prevent Francis from trading personally with any of the countries in
which Venetian citizens enjoyed special advantages.
Francis was immensely gratified, when he heard from the merchant of the
honour to be conferred upon him. It was of all others the reward he
would have selected, had a free choice been given him, but it was so
great and unusual an honour, that he could indeed scarcely credit it
when the merchant told him the result of his interviews with the
council. The difficulty which his being a foreigner would throw in the
way of his career as a merchant in Eastern waters, had been frequently
in his mind, and would, he foresaw, greatly lessen his usefulness, but
that he should be able to obtain naturalization, without renouncing his
allegiance to England, he had never even hoped.
"It is a very high honour, doubtless," Polani said, "but no whit higher
than you deserve. Besides, after all, it costs Venice nothing, and
money is scarce at present. At any rate, I can congratulate myself as
well as you, for I foresaw many difficulties in our way. Although the
ships carrying the Venetian flag could enter the ports of all countries
trading with us, you would personally be liable to arrest, at any time,
on being denounced as not being a native of Venice, which you assuredly
would be by my rivals in trade."
The next day a bulletin was published, giving the substance of Pisani's
despatch, and announcing that, in token of the gratitude of the
republic for the great service he had rendered, Messer Hammond would be
at once granted the freedom of Venice, and his name inserted on the
list of her citizens.
During these two days the delight of Venice at the news of the victory
had been extreme. The houses had been decorated with flags, and the
bells of all the churches had peeled out joyously. Crowds assembled
round the Polani Palace, and insisted upon Francis making his
appearance, when they greeted him with tremendous shouts of applause.
Upon the evening of the second day he said to Polani:
"Have you any ship fit for sea, signor, because if so, I pray you to
send me away, no matter where. I cannot stand this. Since the decree
was published, this morning, I have not had a moment's peace, and it is
too absurd, when I did no more than any sailor on board the ship. If it
went on, I should very soon be heartily sorry I ever interfered on
behalf of the admiral."
The merchant smiled.
"I have half promised to take you with me to the reception at the
Persanis' this evening, and have had a dozen requests of a similar
nature for every night this week and next."
"Then, if you have no ship ready, signor, I will charter a fishing
boat, engage a couple of men, and go off for a fortnight. By the end of
that time something fresh will have happened."
"I can send you off, if you really wish it, Francisco, the first thing
tomorrow morning. I am despatching a small craft with a message to my
agent in Corfu, and with letters for my daughters. They will be
delighted to see you, and indeed, I shall be glad to know that you are
with them, until I can wind up several affairs which I have in hand,
and join them myself. She is fast, and you should be at Corfu in
eight-and-forty hours after sailing."
Francis gladly embraced the offer, and started the next morning. The
vessel was a small one, designed either to sail or row. Her crew
consisted of twenty men, who rowed sixteen sweeps when the wind was
light or unfavourable. She was an open boat, except that she was decked
at each end, a small cabin being formed aft for the captain, and any
passengers there might be on board, while the crew stowed themselves in
the little forecastle.
When the boat was halfway across, a sail was seen approaching, and the
captain recognized her as one of Polani's vessels.
"In that case," Francis said, "we may as well direct our course so as
to pass them within hailing distance. When you approach them, hoist the
Polani flag, and signal to them to lay to."
This was done, and the two craft brought up within thirty yards of each
other. The captain appeared at the side of the vessel, and doffed his
cap when he recognized Francis.
"Have you any news from the East?" the latter asked.
"But little, signor. A few Genoese pirates are among the islands, and
are reported to have made some captures, but I have seen none. There is
nothing new from Constantinople. No fresh attempt has been made by the
emperor to recapture Tenedos."
"Did you touch at Corfu on your way back?"
"I left there yesterday, signor. A strange craft has been reported as
having been seen on the coast. She carries no flag, but from her
appearance she is judged to be a Moor."
"But we are at peace with the Moors," Francis said, "and it is years
since they ventured on any depredations, excepting on their own
waters."
"That is so, signor, and I only tell you what was the report at Corfu.
She appeared to be a swift craft, rowing a great many oars. Her
movements certainly seem mysterious, as she has several times appeared
off the coast. Two vessels which sailed from Cyprus, and were to have
touched at Corfu, had not arrived there when I left, and they say that
several others are overdue. I do not say that has anything to do with
the strange galley, but it is the general opinion in Corfu that it has
something to do with it, and I am the bearer of letters from the
governor to the seignory, praying that two or three war ships may at
once be sent down to the island."
"It looks strange, certainly," Francis said; "but I cannot believe that
any Moorish pirates would be so daring as to come up into Venetian
waters."
"I should not have thought so either, signor; but it may be that,
knowing there is war between Venice and Genoa, and that the state
galleys of the republics, instead of being scattered over the seas, are
now collected in fleets, and thinking only of fighting each other, they
might consider it a good opportunity for picking prizes."
"It is a good opportunity, certainly," Francis said; "but they would
know that Venice would, sooner or later, reckon with them; and would
demand a four-fold indemnity for any losses her merchants may have
suffered.
"However, I will not detain you longer. Will you tell Signor Polani
that you met us, and that we were making good progress, and hoped to
reach Corfu some time tomorrow?"
"This is a curious thing about this galley," the captain of the boat
said to Francis, as the men again dipped their oars into the water, and
the boat once more proceeded on the way.
"It is much more likely to be a Genoese pirate than a Moor," Francis
said. "They may have purposely altered their rig a little, in order to
deceive vessels who may sight them. It is very many years since any
Moorish craft have been bold enough to commit acts of piracy on this
side of Sicily. However, we must hope that we shall not fall in with
her, and if we see anything answering to her description we will give
it a wide berth. Besides, it is hardly likely they would interfere with
so small a craft as ours, for they would be sure we should be carrying
no cargo of any great value."
"Twenty Christian slaves would fetch money among the Moors," the
captain said. "Let us hope we shall see nothing of them; for we should
have no chance of resistance against such a craft, and she would go two
feet to our one."
The next morning Francis was aroused by a hurried summons from the
captain. Half awake, and wondering what could be the cause of the call,
for the boat lay motionless on the water, he hurried out from the
little cabin. Day had just broken, the sky was aglow with ruddy light
in the east.
"Look there, signor!" the captain said, pointing to the south. "The
watch made them out a quarter of an hour since, but, thinking nothing
of it, they did not call me. What do you think of that?"
Two vessels were lying in close proximity to each other, at a distance
of about two miles from the boat. One of them was a large trader, the
other was a long galley rigged quite differently to those of either
Venice or Genoa.
"That is the craft they were speaking of," the captain said. "There is
no mistaking her. She may be an Egyptian or a Moor, but certainly she
comes from the African coast."
"Or is got up in African fashion," Francis said. "She may be, as we
agreed yesterday, a Genoese masquerading in that fashion, in order to
be able to approach our traders without their suspicions being aroused.
She looks as if she has made a captive of that vessel. I imagine she
must have come up to her late yesterday evening, and has been at work
all night stripping her. I hope she is too busy to attend to us."
The sail had been lowered the instant the captain caught sight of the
vessels, for there was scarcely enough wind to fill it, and the men
were now rowing steadily.
"I do not think she could have taken much of her cargo out. She is very
deep in the water."
"Very deep," Francis agreed. "She seems to me to be deeper than she did
three minutes ago."
"She is a great deal deeper than when we first caught sight of her,"
one of the sailors said. "She stood much higher in the water than the
galley did, and now, if anything, the galley stands highest."
"See!" the captain exclaimed suddenly, "the galley is rowing her oars
on the port bow, and bringing her head round. She has noticed us, and
is going to chase us! We have seen too much.
"Row, men--it is for life! If they overtake us it is a question between
death, and slavery among the Moors."
A sudden exclamation from one of the men caused the captain to glance
round again at the galley. She was alone now on the water--the trader
had sunk!
"Do you take the helm, signor," the captain said. "All hands will help
at the oars."
Some of the oars were double banked, and beneath the strength of the
twenty men, the boat moved fast through the water. The galley was now
rowing all her oars, and in full pursuit. For a quarter of an hour not
a word was spoken. Every man on board was doing his utmost. Francis had
glanced backwards several times, and at the end of a quarter of an
hour, he could see that the distance between the boat and her pursuer
had distinctly lessened.
"Is she gaining on us?" the captain asked, for the cabin in the stern
hid the galley from the sight of the oarsmen.
"She is gaining," Francis said quietly, "but not rapidly. Row steadily,
my lads, and do not despair. When they find how slowly they gain, they
may give up the chase and think us not worth the trouble.
"Jacopo," he said to an old sailor who was rowing in the bow, and who
already was getting exhausted from the exertion, "do you lay in your
oar and come aft. I will take your place."
At the end of an hour the galley was little more than a quarter of a
mile away.
"We had better stop," the captain said. "We have no chance of getting
away, and the longer the chase the more furious they will be. What do
you think, signor?"
"I agree with you," Francis replied. "We have done all that we could.
There is no use in rowing longer."
The oars fell motionless in the water, and a few minutes later the long
galley came rushing up by their side.
"A fine row you have given us, you dogs!" a man shouted angrily as she
came alongside. "If you haven't something on board that will pay us for
the chase we have had, it will be the worse for you. What boat is
that?"
"It is the Naxos, and belongs to Messer Polani of Venice. We are bound
to Corfu, and bear letters from the padrone to his agent there. We have
no cargo on board."
"The letters, perhaps, may be worth more than any cargo such a boat
would carry. So come on board, and let us see what the excellent Polani
says to his agent. Now, make haste all of you, or it will be the worse
for you."
It was useless hesitating. The captain, Francis, and the crew stepped
on board the galley.
"Just look round her," the captain said to one of his sailors. "If
there is anything worth taking, take it, and then knock a hole in her
bottom with your axe."
Francis, as he stepped on board the galley, looked round at the crew.
They were not Genoese, as he had expected, but a mixture of ruffians
from all the ports in the Mediterranean, as he saw at once by their
costumes. Some were Greeks from the islands, some Smyrniots, Moors, and
Spaniards; but the Moors predominated, nearly half the crew belonging
to that race.
Then he looked at the captain, who was eagerly perusing the documents
the captain had handed him. As his eye fell upon him, Francis started,
for he recognized at once the man whose designs he had twice thwarted,
Ruggiero Mocenigo, and felt that he was in deadly peril.
After reading the merchant's communication to his agent, Ruggiero
opened the letter addressed to Maria. He had read but a few lines when
he suddenly looked up, and then, with an expression of savage pleasure
in his face, stepped up to Francis.
"So, Messer Hammond, the good Polani sends you to stay for a while with
his daughters! Truly, when I set out in chase this morning of that
wretched rowboat, I little deemed that she carried a prize that I
valued more than a loaded caravel! It is to you I owe it that I am an
exile, instead of being the honoured son-in-law of the wealthy Polani.
It was your accursed interference that brought all my misfortunes upon
me; but thank Heaven my vengeance has come at last!
"Take them all below," he said, turning to his men. "Put the heaviest
irons you have got on this fellow, and fasten them with staples into
the deck.
"You thought I was going to hang you, or throw you overboard," he went
on, turning to Francis. "Do not flatter yourself that your death will
be so easy a one--you shall suffer a thousand torments before you die!"
Francis had not spoken a word since Ruggiero first turned to him, but
had stood with a tranquil and almost contemptuous expression upon his
face; but every nerve and muscle of his body were strained, and in
readiness to spring into action. He had expected that Ruggiero would at
once attack him, and was determined to leap upon him, and to sell his
life as dearly as possible.
The sailors seized Francis and his companions, and thrust them down
into the hold, which was already crowded with upwards of a hundred
captives. He was chained with heavy manacles. In obedience to
Ruggiero's orders, staples were driven through the links of his chain
deep into the deck, so that he was forced to remain in a sitting or
lying posture. The captain of the Naxos came and sat beside him.
"Who is this pirate captain, Messer Francisco, who thus knows and has
an enmity against you? By his speech he is surely a Venetian. And yet,
how comes a Venetian in command of a pirate?"
"That man is Ruggiero Mocenigo--the same who twice attempted to carry
off Messer Polani's daughters. The second time he succeeded, and would
have been tried for the offence by the state had he not, aided by a
band of Paduans, escaped from the keeping of his guard."
"Of course I heard of it, signor. I was away at sea at the time, but I
heard how you came up at the moment when the padrone's gondoliers had
been overcome, and rescued his daughters. And this is that villain
Mocenigo, a disgrace to his name and family!"
"Remember the name, captain, and tell it to each of your men, so that
if they ever escape from this slavery, into which, no doubt, he intends
to sell you, they may tell it in Venice that Ruggiero Mocenigo is a
pirate, and an ally of the Moors. As for me, there is, I think, but
small chance of escape; but at any rate, if you ever reach Venice, you
will be able to tell the padrone how it was that we never arrived at
Corfu, and how I fell into the hands of his old enemy. Still, I do not
despair that I may carry the message myself. There is many a slip
between the cup and the lip, and Mocenigo may have cause, yet, to
regret that he did not make an end of me as soon as he got me into his
hands."
"It may be so," the captain said, "and indeed I cannot think that so
brave a young gentleman is destined to die, miserably, at the hands of
such a scoundrel as this man has shown himself to be. As for death, did
it come but speedily and sharply, I would far sooner die than live a
Moorish slave. Santa Maria, how they will wonder at home, when the days
go on, and the Naxos does not return, and how at last they will give up
all hope, thinking that she has gone down in a sudden squall, and never
dreaming that we are sold as slaves to the Moors by a countryman!"
"Keep up your heart, captain. Be sure that when the war with Genoa is
over, Venice will take the matter in hand. As you know, a vessel has
already carried tidings thither of the depredation of a Moorish
cruiser, and she will take vengeance on the Moors, and may even force
them to liberate the captives they have taken; and besides, you may be
sure that the padrone, when he hears of the Moorish galley, and finds
we never reached Corfu although the weather continued fine, will guess
that we have fallen into her hands, and will never rest till he finds
where we have been taken, and will ransom those who survive at whatever
price they may put upon them."
"He will do his best, I know. He is a good master to serve. But once a
prisoner among the Moors, the hope of one's ever being heard of again
is slight. Sometimes, of course, men have been ransomed; but most, as I
have heard, can never be found by their friends, however ready they may
be to pay any ransom that might be asked. It just depends whether they
are sold to a Moor living in a seaport or not. If they are, there would
be no great difficulty in hearing of them, but if they are sold into
the interior, no inquiries are ever likely to discover them."
"You must hope for the best," Francis said. "Chances of escape may
occur, and I have heard that Christian captives, who have been
released, say that the Moors are for the most part kind masters."
"I have heard so, too," the captain said; "and anyhow, I would rather
be a Moorish slave than lie in a Genoese dungeon. The Genoese are not
like us. When we take prisoners we treat them fairly and honourably,
while they treat their prisoners worse than dogs. I wish I could do
something for you, Messer Francisco. Your case is a deal worse than
ours.
"Listen, they are quarrelling up on deck!"
There was indeed a sound of men in hot dispute, a trampling of feet, a
clash of steel, and the sound of bodies falling.
"It is not possible that one of our cruisers can have come up, and is
boarding the pirate," the captain said, "for no sail was in sight when
we were brought here. I looked round the last thing before I left the
deck. What can they be fighting about?"
"Likely enough, as to their course. They have probably, from what we
heard, taken and sunk several ships, and some may be in favour of
returning to dispose of their booty, while others may be for cruising
longer. I only hope that scoundrel Ruggiero is among those we heard
fall. They are quiet now, and one party or the other has evidently got
the best of it. There, they are taking to the oars again."
Several days passed. Sometimes the oars were heard going, but generally
the galley was under sail. The sailors brought down food and water,
morning and evening, but paid no other attention to the captives.
Francis discussed, with some of the other prisoners, the chances of
making a sudden rush on to the deck, and overpowering the crew; but all
their arms had been taken from them, and the galley, they calculated,
contained fully a hundred and fifty men. They noticed, too, when the
sailors brought down the food, a party armed and in readiness were
assembled round the hatchway.
At all other times the hatchway was nearly closed, being only left
sufficiently open to allow a certain amount of air to pass down into
the hold, and by the steady tramp of steps, up and down, they knew that
two sentries were also on guard above. Most of the prisoners were so
overcome with the misfortune which had befallen them, and the prospect
of a life in hopeless slavery, that they had no spirit to attempt any
enterprise whatever, and there was nothing to do but to wait the
termination of the voyage.
At the end of six days there was a bustle on deck, and the chain of the
anchor was heard to run out. Two or three hours afterwards the hatchway
was taken off. When the rest had ascended, two men came below with
hammers, and drew the staples which fastened Francis to the deck.
On going up, he was at first so blinded with the glare of the
sunshine--after six days in almost total darkness--that he could scarce
see where he was. The ship was lying at anchor in a bay. The shores
were low, and a group of houses stood abreast of where the ship was
anchored. By their appearance Francis saw at once that he was on the
coast of Africa, or of some island near it.
The prisoners were ordered to descend into the boats which lay
alongside, some sailors taking their places with them. Ruggiero was not
at first to be seen, but just as Francis was preparing to take his
place in the boat, he came out from the cabin. One of his arms was in a
sling, and his head bandaged.
"Take special care of that prisoner," he said to the men. "Do not take
off his chains, and place a sentinel at the door of the place of his
confinement. I would rather lose my share of all the spoil we have
taken, than he should escape me!"
The shackles had been removed from the rest of the captives, and on
landing they were driven into some huts which stood a little apart from
the village. Francis was thrust into a small chamber with five or six
companions. The next morning the other prisoners were called out, and
Francis was left alone by himself all day. On their return in the
evening, they told him that all the prisoners had been employed in
assisting to get out the cargo, with which the vessel was crammed, and
in carrying it to a large storehouse in the village.
"They must have taken a rich booty, indeed," said one of the prisoners,
who had already told Francis that he was the captain of the vessel they
had seen founder. "I could tell pretty well what all the bales contain,
by the manner of packing, and I should say that there were the pick of
the cargoes of a dozen ships there. All of us here belong to three
ships, except those taken with you; but from the talk of the sailors, I
heard that they had already sent off two batches of captives, by
another ship which was cruising in company of them. I also learned that
the quarrel, which took place just after you were captured, arose from
the fact that the captain wished a party to land, to carry off two
women from somewhere in the island of Corfu; but the crew insisted on
first returning with the booty, urging, that if surprised by a Venetian
galley, they might lose all the result of their toil. This was the
opinion of the majority, although a few sided with the captain, being
induced to do so by the fact that he offered to give up all his share
of the booty, if they would do so.
"The captain lost his temper and drew his sword, but he and his party
were quickly overpowered. He has kept to his cabin ever since,
suffering, they say, more from rage than from his wounds. However, it
seems that as soon as we and the cargo have been sold, they are to
start for Corfu to carry out the enterprise. We are on an island not
very far from Tunis, and a fast-rowing boat started early this morning
to the merchants with whom they deal, for it seems that a certain
amount of secrecy is observed, in order that if any complaints are made
by Venice, the Moorish authorities may disclaim all knowledge of the
matter."
Two days later the prisoners captured were again led out, their guards
telling them that the merchants who had been expected had arrived.
Giuseppi, who had hitherto borne up bravely, was in an agony of grief
at being separated from Francis. He threw himself upon the ground,
wept, tore his hair, and besought the guards to let him share his
master's fate, whatever that might be. He declared that he would kill
himself were they separated; and the guards would have been obliged to
use force, had not Francis begged Giuseppi not to struggle against
fate, but to go quietly, promising again and again that, if he himself
regained his freedom, he would not rest until Giuseppi was also set at
liberty. At last the lad yielded, and suffered himself to be led away,
in a heartbroken state, by the guards.
None of the captives returned to the hut, and Francis now turned his
whole thoughts to freeing himself from his chains. He had already
revolved in his mind every possible mode of escape. He had tried the
strong iron bars of the window, but found that they were so rigidly
fixed and embedded in the stonework, that there was no hope of escape
in this way; and even could he have got through the window, the weight
of his shackles would have crippled him.
He was fastened with two chains, each about two feet six inches long,
going from the wrist of the right hand to the left ankle, and from the
left hand to the right ankle. Thus he was unable to stand quite
upright, and anything like rapid movement was almost impossible. The
bottom of the window came within four feet of the ground, and it was
only by standing on one leg, and lifting the other as high as he could,
that he was able to grasp one of the bars to try its strength.
The news he had heard from his fellow prisoner almost maddened him, and
he thought far less of his own fate, than of that of the girls, who
would be living in their quiet country retreat in ignorance of danger,
until suddenly seized by Mocenigo and his band of pirates.
He had, on the first day, tried whether it was possible to draw his
hand through the iron band round his wrist, but had concluded it could
not be done, for it was riveted so tightly as to press upon the flesh.
Therefore there was no hope of freeing himself in that manner. The only
possible means, then, would be to cut through the rivet or chain, and
for this a tool would be required.
Suddenly an idea struck him. The guard who brought in his food was a
Sicilian, and was evidently of a talkative disposition, for he had
several times entered into conversation with the captives. In addition
to a long knife, he carried a small stiletto in his girdle, and Francis
thought that, if he could obtain this, he might possibly free himself.
Accordingly, at the hour when he expected his guard to enter, Francis
placed himself at his window, with his face against the bars. When he
heard the guard come in, and, as usual, close the door behind him, he
turned round and said:
"Who is that damsel there? She is very beautiful, and she passes here
frequently. There she is, just going among those trees."
The guard moved to the window and looked out.
"Do you see her just going round that corner there? Ah! She is gone."
The guard was pressing his face against the bars, to look in the
direction indicated, and Francis, who was already standing on his left
leg, with the right raised so as to give freedom to the hand next to
the man, had no difficulty in drawing the stiletto from its sheath, and
slipping it into his trousers.
"You were just too late," he said, "but no doubt you often see her."
"I don't see any beautiful damsels about in this wretched place," the
man replied. "I suppose she is the daughter of the head man in the
village. They say he has some good-looking ones, but he takes pretty
good care that they are not about when we are here. I suppose she
thought she wouldn't be seen along that path. I will keep a good
lookout for her in future."
"Don't frighten her away," Francis said, laughing. "She is the one
pleasant thing I have in the day to look at."
After some more talk the man retired, and Francis examined his prize.
It was a thin blade of fine steel, and he at once hid it in the earth
which formed the floor of the hut.
An hour later the guard opened the door suddenly. It was now dusk, and
Francis was sitting quietly in a corner.
"Bring a light, Thomaso," the guard shouted to his comrade outside. "It
is getting dark in here."
The other brought a torch, and they carefully examined the floor of the
cell.
"What is it that you are searching for?" Francis asked.
"I have dropped my dagger somewhere," the man replied. "I can't think
how it fell out."
"When did you see it last?"
"Not since dinner time. I know I had it then. I thought possibly I
might have dropped it here, and a dagger is not the sort of plaything
one cares about giving to prisoners."
"Chained as I am," Francis said, "a dagger would not be a formidable
weapon in my hands."
"No," the man agreed. "It would be useless to you, unless you wanted to
stick it into your own ribs."
"I should have to sit down to be able to do even that."
"That is so, lad. It is not for me to question what the captain says, I
just do as I am told. But I own it does seem hard, keeping a young
fellow like you chained up as if you were a wild beast. If he had got
Pisani or Zeno as a prisoner, and wanted to make doubly sure that they
would not escape, it would be all well enough, but for a lad like you,
with one man always at the door, and the window barred so that a lion
couldn't break through, I do think it hard to keep you chained like
this; and the worst of it is, we are going to have to stop here to look
after you till the captain gets back, and that may be three weeks or a
month, who knows!"
"Why don't you keep your mouth shut, Philippo?" the other man growled.
"It's always talk, talk with you. We are chosen because the captain can
rely upon us."
"He can rely upon anyone," Philippo retorted, "who knows that he will
get his throat cut if he fails in his duty."
"Well, come along," the other said, "I don't want to be staying here
all night. Your dagger isn't here, that's certain, and as I am off
guard at present, I want to be going."
As soon as he was left alone, Francis unearthed the dagger, feeling
sure that no fresh visit would be made him that evening. As he had
hoped, his first attempt showed him that the iron of the rivet was
soft, and the keen dagger at once notched off a small piece of the
burred end. Again and again he tried, and each time a small piece of
metal flew off. After each cut he examined the edge of the dagger, but
it was well tempered, and seemed entirely unaffected.
He now felt certain that, with patience, he should be able to cut off
the projecting edges of the rivets, and so be able to free his hands.
He, therefore, now examined the fastenings at the ankles. These were
more heavy, and on trying them, the iron of the rivet appeared to be
much harder than that which kept the manacles together. It was,
however, now too dark to see what he was doing, and concealing the
dagger again, he lay down with a lighter heart than he had from the
moment of his capture.
Even if he found that the lower fastenings of the chain defied all his
efforts, he could cut the rivets at the wrists, and so free one end of
each chain. He could then tie the chains round his legs, and their
weight would not be sufficient to prevent his walking.