ns.

Ronald in vain tried to ascertain if the soldiers knew how they, the
English prisoners, were to be disposed of, but the Frenchmen only
shrugged their shoulders, and replied that that was no business of
theirs. It was not likely that they would be kept for ever in the
tower, which, as the rats had already deserted it, was very likely to
tumble about their ears.

"It is a wonder, then, that it did not come down during the late gale,"
observed Ronald.

"Ah," said one of the men with a shrug and a wink, "it is a wonder
truly, considering how rotten it is from the top to the bottom. But we
must not stop here, talking with you Englishmen, or we shall be
suspected of wishing to help you to escape. Adieu, adieu,--_au revoir_.
You don't seem much cast down. Perhaps you would be, if you knew the
fate prepared for you."

With another wink from the chief speaker, a corporal, by his uniform,
the man took his departure.

"I am certain, sir, they had meaning in what they said," observed Ronald
to Mr Calder, explaining the Frenchman's remarks. "Gerardin is not
ungrateful, and wishes to help us to escape."

Rawson laughed at the notion of a Frenchman being grateful, and even Mr
Calder seemed to doubt that he, or any one else, had the slightest idea
of helping them to escape.

"People are not fond of putting their lives in jeopardy, to help those
in whom they have no interest," he remarked.

It seemed too likely that the lieutenant was right, for the night
passed, and noon of the following day arrived, and no one came near
them. At that time the two soldiers who had before appeared brought in
their food, but left it without saying a word, and again hurried down
the stairs.

Ronald was persuaded that the corporal gave a significant look at him,
as he followed his companion out of the door. It was probable that the
two men did not trust each other.

"It is all your fancy, Morton," said Rawson, gloomily. "Depend on it we
shall be marched off to some horrible out of the way fortress, and be
shut up for the next ten years of our lives, while our old shipmates are
crowning themselves with laurels, or what is better, making no end of
prize-money, and rising to the top of their profession. When we get
back once more to the shores of old England, there we shall be wretched
white-haired old mates and midshipmen, forgotten by our friends, and
cared for by nobody. There's one consolation,--I'll not learn a word of
their