e rear windows opened upon a narrow alley, and he had
ascertained by looking out at them that the warehouse was one of a long
block. He had been in Mobile a great deal while the family were visiting
at Glenfield, and he had been careful to notice the location when he was
conducted to it with the others.

At the end of the loft next to the main street were thirty or forty
other prisoners, with whom Christy and Flint had been on good terms,
though they belonged to the army, and seemed to be inclined to keep
by themselves. They had been exhausted by hard service, and they had
nothing to do but eat and sleep, though the former occupation did not
occupy any great amount of their spare time. But as soon as it was
fairly dark, they stretched themselves on their beds of vines and weeds,
and most of them were soon asleep.

The evening that followed the day on which Colonel Passford visited his
nephew was dark, foggy, rainy, and as gloomy as even a blockade runner
might ask. Christy seated himself under one of the rear windows of the
loft, which appeared to have been intended only for storage, and was
only from seven to eight feet between studs. Flint placed himself at the
side of his companion, as he was requested to do.

"This is just the kind of a night we want," said Christy, in a whisper,
for he could hear the tramp of a sentinel outside the door of the loft.

"I should as soon think of getting out if we were buried a hundred feet
under ground as to think of getting out of this place," replied Flint,
who was hardly as enterprising as his officer, though he was always
ready to follow when he was well led. "There is a guard at the door,
Mr. Passford."

"He may stay there; we don't want anything of him," replied Christy.

"I see no other way out of this den, unless we jump down into the
street; but I will follow you, sir, if I fall a hundred feet in doing
it," protested the master's mate.

"You shall not fall six inches, and you will have no opportunity to do
so. But if you are all ready to follow my lead, we may as well begin at
once," added Christy, who had expected that it would require some
persuasion to induce his companion to join him.

The first thing the midshipman did was to take off his shoes, and to
require Flint to do the same. With these in their hands, Christy paced
off twenty steps, which brought him, according to a calculation he
had made in the daylight, under a scuttle that led to the roof of the
ware