the rope, I made one end fast to the bar set into the stone we had been working upon, and the other end I bent on to the corresponding bar in the next window, hauling it taut as possible.
"With our feet against the lower edge of the window we should be able to fetch something away," I said in a hopeful tone; "and even though we fail at first, the plan is sure to succeed after we've picked out a little more of the mortar."
Well, we tugged and strained to the utmost of our strength for ten minutes or more, and then, just as I had said to myself that we never could succeed, one end of the bar started ever so slightly.
"It can be done!" Phil cried exultantly, and would have bent himself once more for a supreme effort but that I stopped him.
"There's little chance we could pull two bars out before sunset, and if the job is but half done when Benson comes back, he'll understand what we're trying to do. A fellow who makes a business of trapping men won't stop at anything, however desperate, in order to prevent his villany from being known to the authorities."
"Well, are we to sit here idle?" Phil asked angrily.
"Not a bit of it! We'll amuse ourselves picking mortar from the next seam, and thus have both stones loosened by nightfall. After dark we can yank two bars out, or I'm mistaken."
Now it seemed as if liberty was near at hand; and after I had cast off the rope that we might be able to lower it from the window in case Benson proposed to give us any more food, we set to work on the difficult task of scraping away the hard mortar.
It must not be supposed that we removed any very great amount during this long day; but we had laid bare a deep seam, and thus accomplished more than I had at first believed would be possible.
When evening had come there was no doubt in my mind but that we could, by aid of the rope, wrench away the bars, and I felt brave as a lion when footsteps on the stairs outside told that the scoundrelly Benson was returning.
"He didn't succeed in trapping any one else!" Phil said jubilantly. "We were the only fools on board the Essex."
"Hello in there!" Benson cried out; and I said gruffly: —
"Well, what do you want?"
"It's well to let you know that I'm around. Your ship is ready to leave port in the morning, and forty-eight hours later you two duffers will be getting an idea of whale fishing."
"Which will be better than staying here forced to listen to the voice of a cur like you!" Phil replied.
"That little show of temper will cost you your supper," Benson cried in a rage. "I'll starve you into submission, if you turn rusty, so have a care."
"I reckon you've lost your temper because of not finding any more fools among the crew of the Essex!"
"I don't keep all my birds in one cage."
"But you've got all from the Essex in this one, and we two make up the list," Phil cried with a laugh, for he was finding considerable sport in thus baiting the villain.
"Better keep a quiet tongue in your head," I whispered, "otherwise he might come inside and see what we've been doing."
"I only wish he would!" and Phil flourished his knife in a manner which told what he would do if our enemy should be so indiscreet as to come within striking distance.
Benson stalked to and fro in the hallway when we ceased to reply to his jibes, and after half an hour or more we heard him descending the stairs again.
Then, by gazing through the bars, we could see that he had gone into the enclosure, – most likely to make certain everything was as he had left it; and we listened to the noise of his movements until all was silent once more.
"He's gone out in the hope of catching such of our men as have overstayed their shore leave," Phil whispered. "Now is our time to begin work with the rope."
I insisted that we wait ten minutes longer, to make it more certain the scoundrel had left the building, and then we began the task which I confidently expected would result in our release.
The rope was made fast as before, and we two laid hold of it with a will; but haul and pull as we would, the bars remained firmly in place. That one which we had started during the afternoon was immovable, and the perspiration was running down our faces in tiny streams before we were ready to admit that the plan was a failure.
"He'll work his will with us," Phil said with a sob as we ceased our efforts and stood facing each other in the darkness. "We can't get out!"
"Don't lose your courage so soon. We can work at the mortar all day to-morrow, and then I'm certain the bars will yield."
"By that time the Essex will have left port."
"Other American vessels put in here, and surely we can work our way home without being forced to serve on board a whaler. Besides, the Essex is likely to visit this port more than once before her work in the Pacific is concluded."
Phil would not be soothed, and he turned from me impatiently just as I fancied a low whistle sounded outside, near the garden wall.
In an instant I was at the window, pressing my face against the bars until the iron made great ridges on my cheeks; but the silence was profound, and I believed that which I heard was nothing more than the wind.
Turning from the window in disappointment, I was about to speak to Phil, when the whistle sounded again, low and soft, but so distinctly that there could be no mistake.
Phil heard it as I did, and we two sprang to the gratings once more, expecting, hoping, to hear the voices of our messmates.
Everything was silent, and I stood there like a simple fully thirty seconds before gathering sufficient sense to speak. Then I cried softly: —
"Essex ahoy!"
"Ahoy in the shanty!" a voice replied, and I sank to my knees in fervent thanksgiving, for I recognized the tones of Master Hackett. Now, even though we might not be released, it would be known aboard ship that we had not deserted.
"Where are you?" the old seaman asked in a loud whisper, after remaining silent a few seconds.
"At a window just above the height of the wall," Phil replied, and then a happy thought came to me.
"We've got a half-inch rope here, Master Hackett, and can let it down if perchance you might be able to use it."
"If an old shellback like me can't use a rope, I'd like to see the man who can. Let it down, lads, an' move lively, for I've had hard work to keep out of the course of a British cub who's been actin' in a way that don't seem honest."
While he spoke I was lowering the rope over the wall, and when Master Hackett sung out that he had it, we belayed the remaining portion to a couple of the bars, knowing full well that the old man would soon appear at the top of the wall unless some one on the street interfered with him.
Nor were we mistaken. Before I could have counted ten he was clutching the bars of our prison, asking how we chanced to be in such a scrape.
In the fewest possible words I explained how we had been trapped and what Benson proposed to do with us; whereupon the old man said half to himself: —
"Now I can see what he was after when he came rubbin' alongside some of us, offerin' to show fine sights if we'd go with him. But instead of standin' here yarnin', I reckon we'd better get you out of the trap."
"Wouldn't it be well to report on board that we've been made prisoners, and ask that a squad of men be sent on shore?" Phil asked timidly. "If Benson should get an inkling of your being here, he'd make more trouble for us in some way; and it won't pay to take any chances."
"I don't count on takin' any more'n is wholesome, an' at the same time ain't willin' to flash up on board with the yarn that I couldn't get the best of one Britisher, an' him in a foreign country."
Then Master Hackett made an examination of the bars, after which he suddenly disappeared from view, and, to my great surprise, I saw that, pulling the rope inside the wall, he had slipped into the enclosure.
Now he was almost as much of a