CHAPTER XVII--Showing that there are Two Means of Leaving a Prison
With the lengthening days our hopes of effecting an escape increased.The vigilance of our guards had somewhat relaxed, and we were allowed toremain in one another's company for a much longer period.
Felgate and Greville discussed innumerable plans with me, but in everycase a serious obstacle arose that necessitated the abandonment of thatparticular scheme, till one day the long-hoped-for opportunity arrived.
In the middle of the month of June--I had just celebrated my twentiethbirthday in a very despondent style--Van der Wycke came to us onemorning with a beaming face that showed that something very unusual hadoccurred to upset the stolidity of this typical Dutchman.
"Ah, Mynheer Drake," he said in his very broken English, "I must tellyou ze goot news for us, but bad news for you. Our ships have brokenall ze Englischman, Chatham is burnt, and ve vill even now take London."And in this style he told us the heartbreaking news of thenever-to-be-forgotten disgrace at Chatham, of the burning or sinking ofthe _Royal Oak_, the _James_, the _London_, and several other smallervessels. He also said that His Majesty and the Court and Parliament hadremoved to Bristol, though this latter information afterwards proved tobe false.
For days we remained too sick at heart to attempt an escape; but earlyin the month of July we were informed that our prison was to belimewashed, and that for a few days at least we were to be kept in oneroom at the farther side of the building.
I had long before this secured a careful copy of the paper that IncreaseJoyce had shown me, and this I kept concealed on my person, so that inany case I should still retain what might subsequently prove a valuablepiece of information.
Our new quarters overlooked the town walls, and, the windows being lowerand larger than those of our former prison, we could easily observe whatwas going on.
The Hollanders were evidently making preparations to celebrate theirvictory, for garlands and decorated masts were being displayed. Thisserved to increase our bitterness at heart, and, curiously enough, ourguards became particularly lax in their duties. In fact, but for thepurpose of supplying us with food, we were practically ignored.
We soon discovered that the bars of one of the windows could easily bewrenched from their fastenings, and with these removed only a ten-footdrop lay between us and freedom.
Carefully setting apart a portion of our rations, we soon secured enoughfood to last us for a couple of days, and one evening, directly theguards had visited us for the last time that night, Greville climbed onFelgate's shoulders and attacked the crumbling mortar that kept the barsin position.
In less than an hour we succeeded, by dint of plenty of hard work, inremoving the bars, and all was ready for our flight.
The night was dark, the stars being constantly hidden by dense masses ofdrifting clouds, while the wind howled mournfully amid the trees thatlined the roadway within the ramparts.
The steady tramp of a sentry showed the necessity of extreme caution,and the clocks chimed ten ere the man was visited by the rounds. Halfan hour later he left his post and disappeared--in all probability toenjoy a quiet sleep.
"Now is our time," whispered Drake, and squeezing his body through theaperture he dropped lightly upon the pavement. His example was quicklyand cautiously followed, and in less time than we expected we werecreeping along in the darkest shadows towards the open country.
Instinct took us towards the sea, from which blew a stinging, salt-ladenbreeze that caused a sensation of freedom, and when at length we gainedthe summit of the last rush-grown dyke, we could see the waves lashingthe beach in so violent a manner as to make an attempt to escape by boatan absolute impossibility.
However, the hours of darkness were fleeting fast, so we pressed onalong the shore, peering through the darkness to try and secure a safeshelter. Soon we came upon a small hamlet, of which every house was indarkness, though the occasional barking of dogs warned us that the placewas to be avoided. A short distance beyond was a small haven, whereinwe could see several boats of all sizes riding easily at anchor.
The wind had now veered more to the north-'ard, and with it a heavy raincame on. This decided us, and, trusting that the downpour would deadenthe force of the wind, we launched a small boat and pulled off to agalliot of about twenty tons burthen.
We approached her cautiously, for fear that she might have someonesleeping on board. On coming alongside we fended off our frail cockleshell, while Felgate climbed softly up her sides and gained the deck.She was open amidships, but had a cuddy for'ard and a small cabin underher poop.
Felgate made his way aft, and we saw him disappear under the shadow ofthe poop. A moment later and he reappeared, glided across the deck, andexplored the cuddy. Everything appeared satisfactory, so we joined him,sending the dinghy adrift.
The galliot carried two masts, the after one only being set up. Theforemast was housed in a tabernacle and lay on the deck. We manned awindlass, and with a dismal creaking, that alarmed us mightily, the mastslowly rose to an upright position. Then it was an easy matter tospread the great tanned sail, and having slipped the cable we stoodwestwards towards England and freedom.
Once clear of the haven we felt the lift of the ocean as the vesselheeled to the breeze. Drake and I stood by the tiller, while Felgatewent for'ard to keep a bright lookout.
There was no longer need for silence, and our tongues wagged merrily atthe thought of our escape. The galliot was, like all Dutch craft, ofgreat beam, with bluff bows and an ugly square stern. She would, we hadlittle doubt, prove a good sea boat, but sluggish in a light wind. Asit was, the steady breeze was just strong enough to make her lively, andit was with satisfaction that we saw the dim outline of the low-lyingcoast get fainter and fainter.
Suddenly a massive post, crowned by a triangle, loomed out on ourstarboard bow.
"Steady there!" shouted Felgate; "there's a beacon ahead."
"Which side shall we make for?" asked Greville.
"Quick, Aubrey, try a cast!" said Felgate, and I picked up a heavy pieceof metal which happened to be lying near, fastened a line to it, andthrew it overboard. Less than three fathoms! Again I tried, andtouched the bottom in little more than two.
"'Bout ship!" shouted Drake, bearing down on the long tiller, and thegalliot, her sails flapping in the wind like the wings of a woundedbird, came about slowly yet surely, the breeze filled her sails as shelay on the other tack, and once more she slipped into deep water.
But the result of this manoeuvre was bewildering. The blackness thatprecedes the dawn is always greatest; the shore was invisible, and oursole guide as to direction was the wind, which we hoped still blew fromthe same quarter. All around were the short, steep, white-crested wavesthat are so typical of the shallow waters around the Dutch coasts, whileour range of vision on all sides was limited to a space of about ahundred yards of heaving water.
"Keep the lead going!" ordered Greville, and feverishly I made castafter cast with my rough-and-ready leadline.
For some time I found no bottom with four fathoms, which was theavailable length of the line, and I was on the point of giving up thetask with a feeling that we were clear of the shallows, when I felt thesinker touch bottom.
The boat was once more put about and the lead kept going, but still thedepth remained the same, or, rather, slightly shoaling. Again wetacked, but our efforts to find deeper water were unavailing, and atlast the galliot ran aground with a slight shock on a bed of soft sand.
With a falling tide our position was hopeless, and when daylight dawnedand objects became visible, we found to our dismay that we were withinhalf a mile of the shore, and in full view of the hamlet from which wehad taken the galliot. As we had been sailing for over two hours, wemust have doubled backwards and forwards for want of keeping a propercourse, our numerous tacks having completely bewildered us.
The inhabitants of the town of Haarlem were abroad early, and it wasevident that our ignominious situation had
come to their knowledge, forcrowds lined the shore looking steadfastly in our direction.
At about six in the morning the tide had left us high and dry, and theboundless expanse of sandbanks showed us how hopeless was our task on adark night. Thoroughly disheartened and ashamed, we withdrew to thecabin, where we awaited the arrival of the soldiers who were to take usback to captivity.
"Ah, goot-morning, Mynheer!" was the greeting of the governor, as hemade his way across the sloping deck of the galliot, his usually gravevisage puckered with a thousand wrinkles, while his eyes twinkled withgrim humour.
"Take us and do whatever you will," replied Felgate savagely, "but forany sake taunt us not!"
Van der Wycke bowed in well-feigned gravity.
"Pardon, Mynheer," he replied, "but you yourselves haf put to muchtrouble for nothing. You are now free!"
And to our astonishment we learned how that peace had been proclaimed atBreda on the previous day, and that our futile attempt might well nothave taken place.
Needless to say, our further stay in the Low Countries was hurried asquickly as possible, and next day a stout little brig conveyed us fromRotterdam to London. The joys of seeing our native land once more weresomewhat damped by the pitiful sight of the blackened hulls of ourmen-of-war that had been sunk off the mouth of the Thames.
A Lad of Grit: A Story of Adventure on Land and Sea in Restoration Times Page 17