"No, Sir Henry, you will not," cried Hilary cheerily, "for before many hours are over I mean to be free."

"It is a game of chess, then," said Sir Henry laughing.

"Yes, Sir Henry, and you have moved out your p.a.w.ns and played your queen;" and he pointed below.

"I have," said Sir Henry smiling. "Now what do you mean to do?"

"Well, Sir Henry, seeing how I am shut up, suppose we say that I am castled."

"Very good," laughed Sir Henry going to the door and pa.s.sing out.

"Very good or very bad," muttered Hilary, "I mean to be out before many days are pa.s.sed; and when once I am free the smugglers may look out for squalls."

CHAPTER THIRTY.

HILARY TRIES AGAIN.

Soon after Sir Henry had gone, Hilary went to the window, but drew back directly.

"No," he said to himself, "if I go there I shall be tempted into giving my parole or joining the Pretender's party. Sir Henry seems to think he can win me over; so let us see."

He began to walk up and down his prison. Then it struck him that his clothes had pretty well grown dry again, and he went over in his mind the incidents of the day and the past night, thoughts which were interrupted by the coming of Allstone, who bore some bread and meat, and a mug of beer, while a man behind him dragged in a table and chair, and afterwards carried in a straw mattress and a pillow, Allstone looking grimly on.

The man went out, but Allstone still waited, and at last the man came back with a bundle of sheets and blankets, which he threw upon the bed.

"There," said Allstone, "that will do;" and seeing the man out, he darted a surly look at Hilary, and then followed and banged the door.

"Thank you," said Hilary, laughing. "Perhaps a ladder would have been a little more convenient; but what donkeys people are--give a sailor sheets and blankets, and shut him up in a garret, and think he won't escape! Ha! ha! ha!"

The sight of the food changed the current of Hilary's thoughts, and sitting down he made a very hearty meal, felt that his clothes had grown thoroughly dry, and then did what was not surprising under the circ.u.mstances, began to nod, and then went off fast asleep.

Before an hour had pa.s.sed he awoke; but he was so drowsy that he threw himself upon the mattress, and falling asleep directly he did not awaken till early the next morning.

No escape that day, and as he had to make up his mind to this, he waited until Allstone came with a rough breakfast, when he made a peremptory demand for some means of washing and making himself more presentable.

"My orders be to bring you something to sleep on and your meals, that's all," growled the fellow. "I had no orders about washing tackle."

"Get out, you surly ill-conditioned ruffian," cried Hilary; and the fellow grinned.

"Here's something for you," he said, contemptuously jerking a letter on to the floor, which Hilary picked up.

"Look here, Master Allstone," he cried, shaking a finger at him; "one of these days I shall come here with a dozen or two of our brave boys, and if I don't have you flogged till you beg my pardon for all this, my name is not Hilary Leigh."

"Bah!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the man; and he went away making as much noise as he could with the lock and bar so as to annoy his prisoner, but without success, for that individual was reading the letter he had received.

It was as follows:--

"My dear Hilary,--Fate has placed us on opposite sides, and though she has now thrown us together, I am compelled to hold aloof until you can say to me, 'Here is my parole of honour not to betray you or to escape!' or 'I see that I am on the side of a usurper, and abjure his service. From henceforth I am heart and soul with you.' When you can send me either of those messages, Hilary, Adela and I are ready to receive you with open arms. Till then we must be estranged; but all the same, my dear boy, accept my grat.i.tude and love for your bravery in saving our lives.--Affectionately yours, Henry Norland."

"Then we shall have to remain estranged," said Hilary as he stood by the open window refolding the letter and thinking of his position.

"Hil! Hil!" came from below.

"Ahoy!" he answered. "Well, little lady?" and he leaned out.

"Isn't it a beautiful morning, Hil," said Adela, looking up. "Lovely."

"Why don't you come down and have a run with me in the woods?"

"For one reason, because I am locked up," said Hilary. "For another, because I have not made my hands and face acquainted with soap and water since I was aboard the cutter; my hair is full of bits of straw and dead leaves, and my clothes are soaked and shrunken, and muddied and torn.

Altogether, I am not fit to be seen."

"Well, but Hil, dear, why don't you wash yourself?"

"Because your esteemed friends here do not allow me soap, water, and towel. I say, Addy, if I lower down a piece of string, will you send me a jug of water?"

"Same as I did the milk? Oh, of course!" said the girl laughing.

"All right," said Hilary; "get it, please."

He took out his knife, and without hesitation nicked and tore off the hem of one of his sheets, knotted two lengths together, lowered them down, and in turn drew up wash-hand jug, soap, brush and comb, and afterwards a basin, by having it tied up in a towel, and attaching the string to the knots.

Adela seemed to enjoy it all as fun, but she turned serious directly after as she told her old companion how grateful she felt to him for his bravery on the previous day, remarks which made Hilary feel uncomfortable and go away from the window with the excuse that he wanted to attend to his toilet.

For the next quarter of an hour Hilary was revelling in a good wash, with all the enjoyment of one who has been shut off from the use of soap and towel, with the result that after he had finished off with a brush, he felt more himself, and ready to stare his position more comfortably in the face.

He went to the window in spite of his resolutions not to be tempted, and looked down; but Adela had gone, so he had a good look round at the country.

Here he was facing due south, and before him, stretched in the bright sunshine, wave after wave as it were of hilly land, pretty well clothed with forest-trees. In the far distance there was a range of hills with a church and a windmill, both of which he recognised as having seen from the other side when upon the deck of the cutter, and this gave him a good idea of where he was, and how to shape his course when he made his escape.

That word set him thinking, and without more ado he proceeded to cut up the sheets, knot together some of the strips, and then to lay them up, sailor fashion, into a serviceable linen rope, for the sheets were coa.r.s.e and strong.

This he did with his ears attent to the coming of footsteps, and a place ready in the bed to throw his work and cover it over should Allstone or Sir Henry be at hand. But he need not have troubled, for he completed about forty feet of good strong line from the pair of sheets, and coiled it up after securing the ends ready for use.

His escape now was simplicity itself he thought, and his toil ended and the shreds carefully swept up and blown from the window, he seated himself upon the sill, and enjoyed the warmth of the afternoon sunshine, planning out how he would slip down after securing one end of his cord to the window-frame.

Sir Henry would, he felt sure, provide for the safety of Adela and himself as soon as he found that the prisoner had escaped, for he felt that he could not bring peril upon them. There was no cause for fear, though, and he sat thinking of how grand it would be if he could escape the moment it was dark and get down to the sh.o.r.e and find the _Kestrel_.

That seemed hopeless, though, and too much to expect; for it was not likely that the cutter would be still cruising about and waiting for him. If she was, though, he knew how he could bring a boat's crew well-armed ash.o.r.e, and that was by making a signal with a light in a particular way.

The sun was getting lower, and everything round the old place was still, nothing but a couple of fowls that were pecking about in what had once been a large garden between the old house and the moat, being visible.

It had once been a goodly residence, no doubt, but all now was ruin and desolation, except that the warm sunshine made even the neglect and weeds look picturesque. There were ma.s.sive gables to right and left, and the old tiles were orange and grey with a thick coating of lichen.

Just between his window and that of Adela there were the mouldering remains of a carved shield, with surmounting helmet and crest, and a decayed motto below, while to right and left the ivy had covered the front with its dark-green glossy leaves, among which the cable-like runners could be seen.

Anywhere, almost, along the front of the venerable place he could have climbed down by the help of the ivy; in his neighbourhood, however, it had been cleared away.