not feel much like talking, or anything else. If we had something
really useful to occupy us to pass the time it would be different; but
as it is, well--what can we do?"

"Well, I'll tell you," answered Harry. "We will wait for a little
while, in order to ascertain whether they mean to do anything about this
matter of closing up the spy-hole; and, if no one comes, I think we
could not do better than make another attempt to translate that
cryptogram of ours. We have made many attempts already, it is true, and
it has always got the better of us. But then, we have never, until now,
really had the time to spare to attend to it properly. Now would be a
very good opportunity; we have plenty of time--which drags heavily
enough, God knows. This would serve to make it pass; and if we
succeed--and should be able also to effect our escape--we should then be
ready to secure that treasure without delay. For although, so far as we
are aware, we are the only ones who know anything whatever about the
affair, delay is dangerous; someone might easily even get there before
us and discover the treasure by accident. One never knows. What think
you, Roger?"

"Why, Harry, lad," said Roger, brightening up considerably, "I think
that it's a very good idea. I am surprised that I never thought of it
myself. We had better wait a little, however, and see what happens,
before we extract the paper from my jacket; we do not want to be taken
by surprise."

The words were hardly out of his mouth when, from somewhere in the
building, evidently some distance away, came a long wailing cry, low at
first, then rising gradually higher and higher, until it became a
piercing scream--the scream of a man in mortal agony.

The long-drawn shriek continued for some moments, and then died down
again to a low, moaning sound; then it rose again, and changed into a
series of short yapping cries of anguish, almost like the barking of a
dog; then it ceased.

"What on earth is that, Harry?" ejaculated Roger, looking at his friend,
on whose forehead the cold perspiration was now standing in beads.
"What an awful sound!"

"I am afraid, my friend," replied Harry, "that it means that some poor
mortal is undergoing torture almost greater than he can bear. What
devils these inquisitors are! If I could but be at the head of a few
hundred English seamen at this moment, would I not pull this place of
torture about their ears; and would I not put a few of them