lder's
expostulations, they were locked up in an upper chamber without food or
water, and left to their own devices.

It is not surprising if their remarks and reflections were not very
complimentary to the people on whose shores they had been thrown.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

JOB'S PLAN FOR ESCAPING--A HINT FROM GERARDIN--A ROPE BROUGHT IN A
BASKET--DESCENT FROM THE TOWER--THE GUARD MADE PRISONER--GET ON BOARD A
FISHING-BOAT.

"If I'd my way I'd break out of this here hole, knock the mounseers down
that stands guard, and cut and run," observed Job Truefitt, as he woke
up after a sound sleep on some straw, in the afternoon of the day on
which he and his companions had been shut up in the tower. "We might
get hold of some fishing craft or other, and make good our escape. I've
heard of such things being done afore now."

The sentiment was warmly echoed by the speaker's shipmates.

Mr Calder and the other officers had overheard what was said. It was
intended that they should. Probably the same idea was occupying the
lieutenant's mind; he got up and took a survey of the interior of the
tower. The upper part was of wood, and through a chink came a ray from
the setting sun, and cast a bright light on the opposite wall. It
showed the prisoners the direction of the ocean, and the point towards
which they must make their way if they could escape from the tower.

Mr Calder, with no little exertion, climbed up to the chink to look
out; the chamber was without any window; there had been one in the stone
wall, but that had been blocked up. From the dome shape of the roof it
appeared, too, that the chamber was the highest in the tower. Mr
Calder having completed his survey of the surrounding country, as far as
his position would allow him, descended to the floor. He said but
little; he was pondering the means of escape. To be kept a prisoner
now, almost at the commencement of what everybody said would be a long
war, was more than his philosophy would enable him to bear with
patience. Morton guessed what was passing in his superior's mind.

"It would, indeed, be terrible to be shut up," he observed. "It is only
just what I ought to have expected," said Rawson. "My ill-luck will
stick to me to the end; no fear of that going, though everything else
leaves me."

His remark produced a laugh among his companions, who, if they even
believed in ill-luck, had very little compassion on him when he
complained of it; indeed