us?"

"That is for after consideration. Let us first find a friend, and
we shall find a way to open communication with him. We have no
paper, but we could write the message on a piece of linen and drop
it down. As far as we can see, from here, there is nothing to
prevent anyone coming up to the foot of the wall below us."

For the next four days, nothing whatever happened. They could see
that the white handkerchief at the bars attracted some attention,
for people stopped and looked up at it, but continued their way
without making any gesture that would seem to show that they
interested themselves, in any way, in the matter.

On the fourth day, Desmond, who was at the window, said in a tone
of excitement:

"There is a man down there who, after looking fixedly in this
direction, is making his way towards us. He does not come
straight, but moves about among the houses; but he continues to
approach. I can't make out his face yet, but there is something
about him that reminds me of Mike; though how he could be here,
when we left him in the prison at Harwich, is more than I can
say."

O'Neil and O'Sullivan in turn looked through the window. Not being
so much accustomed as he was to Mike's figure and walk, they could
not recognize in the man, in the dress of a country peasant, the
well-set-up soldier who attended on Desmond. Both admitted,
however, that in point of figure it might well be the man.

"If it is," Desmond said, "all our difficulties are at an end, and
I will wager that we shall be free in three or four days. Now, how
are we to communicate with him?"

"I have a piece of paper in my pocket. It is only an old bill, and
they threw it down, contemptuously, when they searched me," O'Neil
said. "I picked it up again. I hardly know why, except perhaps
that the idea occurred to me that, some day, I might get a chance
of paying it. But as we have no ink, nor pen, nor charcoal, I
don't see how it can benefit us."

He drew the bill from the pocket of his coatee. Desmond took it,
and stood looking at it in silence for a minute. Then an idea
occurred to him.

"I have it!" he exclaimed, presently. "O'Neil, see if you can get
a piece of this gold wire off my facings. I want it five or six
inches long, so that when it is doubled up and twisted together,
so as to be an inch long, it will be stiff enough for our
purpose."

Somewhat puzzled, O'Neil did as he was requested. Desmond
straightened out the fine wire wrapp