We are told that his escape was not noticed for some time because "a slender youth who was capable of creeping through the window-bars at pleasure crawled into Barney's cell (in the Old Mill Prison) and answered for him." I doubt this, for--if you have ever seen the bars of a prison--it would take a Jack Spratt to get through them, and Jack Spratts are not common. At any rate someone answered to the daily roll-call for Joshua B., so that it was full two weeks before the authorities knew of his escape. Perhaps there was a ventriloquist in the jail.

The tiny boat in which the adventurous American hoped to reach the welcome sh.o.r.es of France, bobbed up and down, as she ambled towards the low-lying coast, under a gentle southerly breeze. But there was trouble in this self-same wind, for the white wings of a British privateer grew nearer and nearer, and a hail soon came:

"What's your name, and where are you bound?"

Barney and his partners in distress did not answer at all. They scowled as a boat was lowered from the side of their pursuer, and quickly splashed towards them. In not many moments, a swearing sea-captain swung himself upon their deck.

"Who are you, you lubbers?" said he. "Where' yer papers, and where'

yer bound to?"

"I'm a British officer," replied the astute Joshua, opening his coat and disclosing the uniform of the service. "I am bound for France upon official business."

The Captain snickered.

"An' with two others in er' launch? Aw go tell that to th' marines!"

"It's G.o.d's truth. I'm in a state secret."

"Wall--be that as it may be--you must come aboard of my vessel and tell yer state secret to th' authorities in England. Meanwhile, I'll put a skipper of my own aboard yer vessel and we'll travel together--bein' friends."

Barney swore beneath his breath.

Thus the two boats beat towards the coast of Merrie England in company, and upon the day following, came to anchor in a small harbor, six miles from Plymouth. The captain of the privateer went ash.o.r.e in order to report to Admiral Digby at Plymouth, while most of the crew also hastened to the beach in order to avoid the chance of being seized by the press-gang, which harried incoming vessels for recruits for His Majesty's service.

"Can't I go, too?" asked the cautious "Josh."

"No, you must remain on board until we come for you," said the captain, as he jumped into his boat en route for the sh.o.r.e. "Mister Officer, I want to search your record." Then he laughed brutishly.

But Barney's thinking cap was working like a mill race. There was a jolly-boat tied to the stern of the privateer, and, when all were safe ash.o.r.e, he gently slipped into this, purposely skinning his leg as he did so. Then he sculled to the beach; where a group of idlers stood looking out to sea.

"Here," he cried, as he neared them. "Help me haul up this boat, will yer? She's awful heavy."

A custom's officer was among these loiterers and he was inquisitive.

"Who are you?" said he. "What regiment and where stationed, pray?"

"That I cannot answer, my friend," calmly replied the acute "Josh,"

pointing to the blood as it trickled through his stocking. "I am badly injured, you see, and must go away in order to get my leg tied up.

Prithee, kind sir, can you tell me where the crew from my vessel have gone to?"

"They are at the Red Lion at the end of the village," replied the official of the law. "You are, indeed, badly hurt."

"Wall, I reckon," replied the American, and, stumbling up the beach, he was soon headed for the end of the little village.

But things were not to go too well with him. He found that he was obliged to pa.s.s the Red Lion, and he had almost succeeded in doing so unmolested, when one of the sailors who was loitering outside, cried out after him,

"Ho, friend! I would speak with you!"

"Josh" had to stop although sorely tempted to run for it.

"I've got some idee of shippin' in th' Navy," said the fellow, as he approached. "Now, friend, you can tell me somethin' of th' pay an'

service, as you're an officer of th' army."

Barney's eyes shone with pleasure, as he saw that his disguise had deceived the fellow.

"Walk along with me towards Plymouth," said he, "and I'll explain everything to you. I have business there which will not wait and I must get on to it."

So they jogged along together, talking vigorously about the Navy, but, in the course of half an hour the jack-tar seemed to think better of his plan for entering "a service noted for its cruelty to seamen," and turned back, saying,

"Thank'ee my fine friend. Thank'ee. I'll stick to privateerin'. It's easier an' there's less cat-o'-nine-tails to it."

As soon as his burly form disappeared down the winding road, Barney began to grow anxious about his safety. Perhaps a guard would be sent after him? Perhaps--even now--men had discovered his absence and were hurrying to intercept him? So--with these thoughts upon his mind--he jumped over a stiff hedge into the grounds of Lord Mount-Edgec.u.mbe.

"Egad! it's touch and go with me," said he, as he walked down one of the gravelled paths. "I'm in for it now for here comes the gardener."

Sure enough, towards him ambled a middle-aged fellow, smiling as he pushed along a wheel-barrow filled with bulbs.

Joshua walked up to him, extending his right hand.

"My friend," said he, "I am an officer escaping from some seamen who wish my life because of a duel in which I recently engaged over the hand of a fair lady. Here is a guinea. It is all that I possess.

And--if you could but pilot me to the waterside and will not tell of my whereabouts--I will bless you to my dying day."

The good-humored man-of-the-soil smiled benignly.

"Prithee, but follow me," said he, "and we'll soon see that you pa.s.s by the way of the water gate. Your money is most welcome, sir, for my wife is just now ill and doctors must be paid, sir. That you know right well."

Barney breathed easier as they walked towards the sea; for out of the corner of his eye he saw a guard--sent to capture him--tramping along the other side of the hedge over which he had leaped.

"Good-bye and good luck!" cried the kind-hearted servant as he closed the private gate which led to the waterside. And, with a wave of the hand, the fleeing American was soon hastening to the winding river, over which he must cross in order to get on to Plymouth.

Luck was still with him. A butcher who was ferrying some beeves by water, took him in his boat, and, as night fell, the keen-witted privateersman crept through the back door of the old clergyman's house at Plymouth--from which he had started. For the time being, he was safe.

Strange to relate, the two friends of the fishing-smack adventure here joined him once more, for they, also, had run away from the crew of the privateer, and--as they sat around the supper-table--the town-crier went by the house, bawling in harsh and discordant tones:

"Five guineas reward for the capture of Joshua Barney; a rebel deserter from Mill Prison! Five guineas reward for this deserter! Five guineas! Five guineas!"

But Barney stuffed his napkin into his mouth in order to stop his laughter.

Three days later a clean-shaven, bright-cheeked, young dandy stepped into a post chaise, at midnight, and drove off to Exeter. At Plymouth gate the conveyance was stopped; a lantern was thrust into the black interior; and the keen eyes of the guard scanned the visages of those within:

"He's not here," growled the watchman, lowering the light. "Drive on!"

Thus Joshua Barney rolled on to home and freedom, while the stout-bodied soldier little guessed that the artful privateersman had slipped through his fingers like water through a sieve.

Two months later--in the autumn of 1781--Joshua Barney: fighter, privateer, liar and fugitive, walked down the quiet streets of Beverly, Ma.s.sachusetts, and a little fish-monger's son whispered to his companions,

"Say, Boys! That feller is a Jim Dandy. He's been through more'n we'll ever see. Say! He's a regular Scorcher!"