re a coward."

"Call me a coward, me a funk!" cried the gallant Tony, springing from
his blanket-bed and striking himself on the chest. "Me, yer old pal
too!" He looked half-sorrowfully and half-angrily at Phil. Then his
face suddenly flushed.

"So I am," he cried hoarsely. "Ain't the poor young officer in
distress, and me wanting to desert him? Phil, old friend, here's my
hand. I won't say another word against it."

"That's right," said Phil, with a smile of relief. "I knew I had only
to call you names to make you give way. Now I'll go up again. Come and
give me a lift."

Climbing into the chimney he worked his way up laboriously. Soon his
hand caught upon a sharp ridge of brick, and happening to look up at
that moment, he saw a square patch of light with somewhat rugged
margins.

"By George," he muttered, "that must be the broken chimney."

He turned over so as to be able to inspect it the better, and, with an
exclamation of annoyance, noticed that several bars crossed the chimney
some eight feet up.

"That will be our greatest difficulty," he thought. "Still, they are
only built into brick, and we ought to be able to loosen them. Now for
the other cell."

He felt the brickwork with his hands, and was delighted to find that it
descended suddenly at an angle, showing that it corresponded to the part
in which he was lying, and that two fireplaces were evidently arranged
to pour their smoke through one common chimney. The flue down which he
was looking then must communicate with the other cell.

"McNeil!" he cried softly. "McNeil!"

"Hallo! Who's that?" came a muffled answer.

Phil repeated his name again more loudly.

"Come to the chimney!" he cried. "I am up here."

A minute passed, and then the small patch of light which he could just
discern beneath was suddenly obscured.

"Who are you? Whatever is happening?" McNeil asked in an eager
whisper. "Hush! Speak low. The jailer lives close outside my cell."

"Do you remember Corporal Western and his friend? The two who helped
you with the flag?" asked Phil, making a funnel of his hands.

"Yes, of course I do. But who are you?"

"I am Corporal Western, or rather I was," said Phil. "I am now a
lieutenant in the 30th. But I will explain later. My friend and I,
together with a Frenchman, were wrecked and blown ashore this morning.
That brute Stackanoff recognised us, and has put us in the cell next to
yours, with the accusation t