"Yes," answered Harry, "I know it perfectly;" and he repeated it to his friend. The paper was then at once torn up into the most minute particles. They were on the point of throwing them out of the window, but refrained, not so much because of the danger that they might be pieced together again, as that they might attract the attention of anybody who chanced to be about at the time. After a while, however, they found a deep crack between the cell wall and the floor, partly concealed by slime and dirt; and into this crack they pushed the remnants of the cryptogram, and then hid the small aperture again by covering it with more dirt scraped from the cell floor. Thus hidden it was exceedingly unlikely that anybody would ever find the pieces unless the exact spot was pointed out to him.

The two lads then turned with much lightened hearts to their meal. It was placed upon the stone table, and they began to share it between them. There was a bunch of bananas this time, a delicacy they had received but once before. Roger took them up to count and divide the fruit, when he exclaimed: "Why, whatever is this?"

"What?" asked Harry.

"Look at this," rejoined Roger, holding something in his fingers. It was a piece of paper which had been skilfully hidden in the fruit, and on it a few lines of writing were to be seen.



CHAPTER NINETEEN.

HELP FROM AN UNEXPECTED QUARTER—PLANS MADE FOR ESCAPE.

With wildly beating hearts, and with no further thoughts for their food, which was tumbled unceremoniously on to the floor, the lads tore open the folded paper, and eagerly scanned its contents. It ran as follows:—

"To the two Englishmen at present imprisoned in the Inquisition at Vera Cruz. It is known all through the city here that the man Alvarez, who calls himself governor of the town and viceroy of the province, intends to have you both burnt alive at an auto-da-fe in the plaza five days from now. It was intended that you should be exhibited and tortured in public here, and sent back to La Guayra for final execution; but the news has come that your countryman, Cavendish, has captured a plate fleet of nineteen ships near Acapulco, and the populace demand that you should both be sacrificed in revenge, to which Alvarez has consented. Unless you can escape before the expiry of the five days you are doomed. There is one chance for you, if you can take it, and I am here to assist you. You can trust me implicitly. I am an English sailor who was made to renounce my religion through torture, and I am now in service here; but I have not forgotten my country. To escape, you must contrive to lower a thin cord from the window, the thinner the better, so that I can communicate with and send small articles to you. Leave this cord hanging from your window, at midnight on the third night from now, without fail; I can do nothing until then. I have contrived to get this message concealed in your food on this one occasion, but I shall never be able to do so again. So you must somehow or another manage to lower to the ground the thin cord of which I told you. Without that I cannot aid you.

"I shall wait here for a time, so that you can throw down a note saying you have received my message; but say no more besides that. If I do not hear from you now, I shall return on the third night, and the cord must be in its place by then. For the present, farewell!

"From a true friend."

This was a long message; but the man who wrote it had done so in such small letters that it occupied but little space. So small, indeed, was the writing that it was as much as they could do to decipher it.

When they had finishing reading this remarkable communication, the lads looked at each other for a moment in utter amazement.

Suddenly Roger ejaculated: "Ah, of course! Now I have it, Harry! The man that we saw waiting below the window—he was the person who wrote this; and he was waiting for the answer, as he said in the note. That is why he seemed to expect us to throw him something. Oh, why, why did we not think of looking sooner? But, of course, we expected nothing of the kind. Anyhow he says he will return on the third night from now. But where, Harry, are we going to get that cord that he wants us to hang from the window? Our escape hinges upon our getting it; and yet—where is it to come from? It is utterly impossible for us to get hold of a cord or line of any sort, so far as I can see. I wonder who the fellow is; and can we trust him?"

"Well," replied Harry, "you saw what he wrote in that message. In five days from now, unless we can meanwhile escape, we are doomed to die an awful death. The man would, I should say, have no object in betraying us; because, if we are already sentenced to death, they do not need any excuse for executing us. And I do not see what the man has to gain by deceiving us. No, Roger, I think the man is genuine enough; and in any case, if we are to suffer death, we may as well die in the attempt to escape as wait here for death to come to us. Is it not so, my friend?

"But perhaps we had better put off the further discussion of this until we have eaten the food. If, when they come to put in our next supply, they find this still uneaten, they may suspect that something is amiss, and remove us to another cell, or even separate us; either of which happenings would put an end for good and all to our chances of escape. Besides, we can talk as we are eating. Come, Roger, wake up, man, and fall to! Eat as much as you can, for we shall need all our strength to go through with what is before us."

Roger saw the wisdom of Harry's argument, and, replacing the food on the table, whence it had fallen in their eagerness to read the message, they set to, and very soon demolished the whole of it, replacing the platter, as usual, when they had finished, by the side of the trap, to be removed when the next meal was put in.

"Now," remarked Harry, "let us resume our discussion of this strange business, Roger. So far as I can see, the matter stands—Hullo! what's that? Did you hear that, Roger?" he suddenly interjected.

"Yes," replied Roger, "I did. What can it be, I wonder?"

There had come a slight sound from the direction of the grating, as of some hard substance striking against the iron bars.

Both lads hurried to the grating, and glanced up at it; but they could see nothing to account for the sound.

"This is most remarkable," said Harry. "I heard the sound quite plainly. It was just like two pieces of iron striking together; and it sounded in the cell itself, or just outside the grating. Jump up on my shoulders again, Roger, and see if you can see anything or anybody about."

Harry bent his back, and helped Roger to climb up on his shoulders. And Roger had just drawn himself upright with his face reaching to the level of the grating, when he uttered a suppressed exclamation, and half-fell, half-slid down to the floor from his perch, and started vigorously rubbing his cheek.

"Whatever is the matter with you, Roger?" ejaculated Harry somewhat crossly; "you nearly broke my back coming down like that." Then, as he saw Roger rubbing his face, his tone changed, and he enquired anxiously, "What is it, old fellow; are you hurt?"

"No; not much, that is," rejoined his friend. "Just as I got my head up level with the grating, and was going to look out, something hit me on the cheek with considerable force, and, losing my balance, I came tumbling down. I am sorry if I hurt you, Harry, old lad."

As he finished speaking, both caught the sound of quick and stealthy footsteps retreating across the courtyard below, and retiring, so far as they could judge by the sound, through the gateway by which the writer of their message had disappeared.

"Ha!" said Harry; "someone has been below our window again. I wonder what it is this time? And what was it that struck you, Roger; could you tell?"

"No," answered Roger. "I know only that something hit me hard on the cheek, and I thought for the moment that my eye was struck. No, I have not the least idea what it could have been."

"Could it," suggested Harry, "have been that fellow whom we saw this morning, come back again with another message; and was he trying to attract our attention, think you?"

"That I cannot say," answered Roger; "but I certainly heard footsteps disappearing just now. Did not you?"

"Yes, I did," answered Harry; "but I did not attach very much significance to the matter until the individual had gone. Well, we do not know what it was, and we have no time to waste; so let us give our whole attention to the matter of that message. Have you got the paper? Well, when we have finished with it, you had better hide it away somewhere safely, or, better still, destroy it altogether; for we never know when we may be searched. They may take it into their heads to do so at any moment."

"Ay, we will do so," agreed Roger; "'twill, as you say, be safer. But go on with what you were about to say before that interruption came."

"Well," resumed Harry, "as I was saying, it seems to stand like this: Alvarez, it would appear, has doomed us to die at an auto-da-fe, five days hence, in order to satisfy the demand of the people of this town for revenge, their desire for which has been aroused by the capture by Mr Cavendish of the plate fleet off Acapulco. This fact is known by everybody in the town, and consequently has come to the ears of this man, who says he is an English sailor.

"I should say that he is probably a man—one of the very few that the Dons have ever taken—captured during some action, and tortured to make him recant. He apparently did so in order to spare himself further pain, as men have done on several occasions, and he is now possibly a serving-man, or something of the kind, in the employ of some Spanish grandee or another. But he has not forgotten the fact that he is an Englishman, and, hearing that two of his fellow-countrymen are to be put to a painful death at an auto-da-fe in the Plaza in five days' time, has made up his mind to save our lives, if possible. If successful, I should say that he himself will try to get away with us.

"At very considerable risk, and doubtless with great difficulty, he has been able to get one message to us, but will not be able to do so again. So he wishes us to procure a piece of cord thin enough to escape easy detection, and hang it from our window, so that he can communicate with us as may be necessary, and so that he can perhaps send up to us certain small articles. For some reason he cannot come again until three days' hence, when he will be waiting below our grating at midnight for us to lower the line to him, when we may expect another message, and probably instructions what to do so that we may escape. Why he cannot come until midnight on the third night I cannot guess, but evidently there is something very weighty and important to prevent his doing so, otherwise, knowing that there are but five days altogether before our execution, he would commence at once to arrange for our escape without losing any time; for a delay of three days now may make all the difference whether we are to live or die.

"All this we learn from his letter; and my opinion is that we must just trust this man, and hope that he will be able to succeed in his efforts; for until we hear again from him, as to what he wishes us to do to assist him, we can do nothing—absolutely nothing. Now, the first difficulty that confronts us is the matter of that line of which he speaks, and without which, he tells us, escape is impossible. How in the world can we secure a rope or cord of any sort? We never even see our jailer, much less talk to him, so that we have no opportunity of attempting to bribe him, and it is most unlikely that we could do so, even if we could speak to him. There is nothing in the cell that we can possibly turn to account; so I do not see at all what we can do. It seems very hard to lose our lives just because we are at a loss for a small thing like a piece of cord or rope."

"For my own part," said Roger, "I wonder somewhat why the man did not make some suggestion as to how we might secure such a thing. Surely he must know that it is utterly impossible for us to procure anything of the kind in prison. I wonder, now, whether that was he or not whose footsteps we heard in the yard a little time ago; and what—Why, Harry, what if that thing that hit me in the face should be another message wrapped round something to make it carry up to the window?"

"Roger," exclaimed Harry in great jubilation, "I believe you have hit upon the very thing. The man said he could not get another message conveyed for him. The cord is not in position so that he can send anything up by that. What more likely than that he should try to throw a note up to us through the bars? In fact it is the only way. Let us look at once. It must have fallen somewhere in the cell, I should say, since it struck you in the face. That fact shows that it came between the bars; and it would hardly rebound outside again."

And in the now fast-failing light both lads dropped on their hands and knees and began a feverish search for what might very easily make all the difference to them between living and dying a horrible and painful death. Hound and round the fast-darkening cell they crawled, but not a sign of anything could they find, until Harry, who was searching a corner where the faint light from the grating could not reach, suddenly placed his hand upon something hard, which rolled under the pressure. Clasping it tight in his fist, he rushed to the grating and looked at the article. Yes, sure enough, it was a piece of paper wrapped round a pebble. He softly called Roger to his side, and, opening the folded missive, both began to read. And, as they read, both faces became several shades paler, and their hearts beat thickly. The note ran as follows:—

"I waited for some time below your window in the hope that you would drop an answer from it to my first letter; but I found that I was being watched, and had therefore to leave. How I shall get this present note to you I do not know, but if nobody is about I shall wrap it round a stone and try to throw it through your window. This is to tell you that Alvarez has decided to advance the day for your execution, which will take place on the day after to-morrow. Therefore you must act at once. I am myself in great danger through my attempts to help you, and if the date had not been altered should not have come until the third night from now. But there is no time to lose, so I must endeavour to come to you to-night. I may be discovered, but I must risk that. Now, attend well to what I am going to write. At midnight to-night, instead of three nights hence, I shall be here, underneath your window. You must at any cost let down a thin cord, or all my efforts will be vain. I will then attach to the cord several small files and a saw of fine temper. If the line is not strong enough to bear the weight I will tie a light line which I shall bring with me to yours; you will then haul that up first, and, making fast the end, you can then pull up the things I shall bring. If I have any more news then, I will also send up a letter to you. With the files and saw you must cut away all the bars of your grating except one. This will leave room for you to climb through. The one bar must be left to secure a stout rope to, so that you may slide down it. The work of cutting the bars will take you all to-morrow; so after my visit to-night I shall not come again until the time arrives for you to make your escape. Be very careful to work silently, or you will be discovered, for spies are everywhere. When the bars are cut, put them back in their places, so that if anyone enters your cell they shall not notice the change.

"For your first line to lower down to me, unravel your hose or under-jerkin, or any garment you can spare without it being noticed. This will give you a long, thin line, to the end of which you must secure a light weight to prevent it from blowing about. Now, until to-night, farewell! I shall be there at midnight exactly, and you must be quite ready. Make no mistake, for this is your only chance, and any mistake will mean the loss of my life as well as your own."

This ended the letter, and Roger immediately took it from Harry's hand, and concealed it, with the first missive, in the lining of his jerkin.

"Now, Harry," said he, "we must act at once; for, as the fellow says, there is no time to lose, and it will take us all the time we have left before darkness sets in to unravel a garment to form our line. He will send us up several files, he says in the letter. Now, if we can put those two stools one on top of the other we shall both be able to stand on them and work together; which is a fortunate thing, as it will take us a long time to cut those bars, so thick are they. I hope the noise will not be heard through the walls, and draw the attention of our jailers; but we must be as silent as we can, and risk the rest. I am more glad than ever now that we closed up that spy-hole, for, had we not done so, we should certainly have been discovered already. Now, Harry, we had best begin on this under-jerkin of mine; the absence of that will not be noticed if I keep my doublet buttoned well up and over. You begin at one end and I will start at the other corner, so that, if we are pressed for time, we can break the threads off and join yours and mine together, and have twice the length we should get otherwise."

Roger stripped his jerkin off, replaced his doublet, and both set to work. By this time the daylight had nearly gone, but, as fortune would have it, a full moon rode high in the sky, and one shaft of light filtered in through the barred window. The court below, however, was in darkness, as the walls were so high that the moonbeams never struck lower than about half-way down them. In this small patch of light, then, the two lads worked for their lives.

When they began their task they considered that about three hours would suffice to complete the work. As time passed, however, it seemed to them as though their fingers were made of lead, so slow did they appear to move, to the lads' excited imagination. Yard by yard the silk became unravelled, and was rolled carefully round Roger's finger, so that, when the time came, there might be no hitch in paying it out.

Every yard that they unravelled seemed to take them an hour in the process, and so occupied were they that it was some few moments before they became aware that at least two small pebbles had been thrown through the window, and then they only noticed it because one of the stones happened to fall directly upon the remnant of the garment upon which they were employed.

"Roger, Roger, there he is," whispered Harry in great excitement. "Quick, quick! unwind that silk from your finger, and—Where can we find anything to tie on the end for a weight?" he added.

Roger unwound the silk as fast as he knew how, and Harry desperately searched every nook and cranny of the cell for something to secure to the end.

"I have it," said Roger in a low tone, as he finished unwinding the silk and coiled it carefully on the stone table, so that it might run free without being entangled. "I have it. We will secure your knife to the end, Harry; it will bear that weight, I should say, and we can haul it up again when the stouter line is attached."

"Very well," answered Harry, producing the article in question, which was soon tied firmly to the end of the unravelled silk.

The two stools were then dragged to the window, and on these Roger mounted, whilst Harry handed up the knife with the silk tied to it.

"God grant that the line may bear the weight!" said Roger to himself, as he took the apparatus from Harry.

Then he leant forward and extended his arm so far that any person standing below would be able to see it in the moonlight, although the person himself in the courtyard would be hidden in the shadow cast by the high walls of the prison. He allowed his hand to remain for a few moments, shining white in the moonlight, in order to signify to the man below that he was in readiness, and was prepared to let down the line. As if in answer, another small pebble came clattering against the wall just below the grating, and Roger's heart stood still for a moment with deadly fear, lest any unwelcome listener might be about.

But there was no sign of such being the case, and the lad lowered carefully away until he felt the knife touch the ground.

A few seconds later he felt a gentle vibration of the silk, as the man below fastened something to it, and then came three light pulls on the line. Roger rightly took this for a signal to haul up, and immediately did so.

He hauled away with the utmost care, for he knew that his very life depended upon it, and when he had hauled in his own line he found attached to it a cord of stouter proportions, and capable of sustaining a very much heavier burden.

To be on the safe side, he at once secured the end of this second line to a bar of the grating, in case it should slip through his fingers, and handed the silken line to Harry, asking him to re-coil it for use again should it be required. Then he gave three light tugs to the line at his end, as a signal that he was ready for the next operation. Immediately he had done so, the gentle movement of the line began again, and was followed directly afterward by the three signal pulls, but stronger ones this time. Up came the cord, and this time it was evident that there was something quite heavy at the other end. Roger pulled up quickly, and presently a dark bundle made its appearance at the window. He grasped this carefully and handed it to Harry, who placed it upon the cell table.

Then the cord was sent down once more. There was a longer pause this time, and Roger was on the point of pulling up the cord, thinking that their unknown friend had finished his part of the business, when the three pulls came again, and Roger once more hoisted away on the line.

It was not so heavy on this occasion, and on taking it in through the window he found that Harry's knife and a piece of paper were the only articles that were attached.

He surmised, therefore, that nothing else was to be sent up, and read the missive before sending down the cord again. It was short and to the point this time.

It ran thus:—

"I am writing this in the courtyard below. I have sent up all the necessary tools; so you need not lower the cord again to-night. It rests with you now to cut the bars, and it must be done by midnight to-morrow night or all will be in vain. I shall be here again then, and will send up a rope thick enough to bear your weight. You must climb down this, and I will be at the bottom to receive and guide you to safety. Till to-morrow, farewell!"

When this had been read, it was placed, together with the other two missives, in the lining of Roger's doublet.

"Now, Harry, lad," the latter whispered, "quick! let us see what there is in this bundle, and then set to work at once. No sleep to-night, my lad. When next we sleep we shall either be out of the clutches of the Inquisition, or—we shall be sleeping the last long sleep of all!"



CHAPTER TWENTY.

HOW ROGER EFFECTED HIS ESCAPE.

On opening the bundle it was found to contain three files, very thin, extremely sharp, and of wonderful temper. There were also two small saws, with handles to them, and a bottle of very thick oil, to make the saws and files cut faster, and also to prevent that harsh, squeaking sound which usually arises when steel cuts against steel.

The two lads, in their eagerness, snatched the tools from the leather bag, and, replacing the stools one above the other, mounted them and began to work swiftly and silently.

"We must remember, Roger," whispered Harry, "that we shall have to listen very carefully for footsteps coming along that passage, and hide these tools somewhere at the first sound. Of course, if we were seen working here, or if the tools were discovered, we might just as well give up at once, for there would be no hope left."

"You are right, my friend," answered Roger. "But I do not intend that anybody shall catch us at this work; nor shall they catch sight of the tools. At the first sound of any person approaching you must jump down for your life, remove the stools, and sit down and pretend to be asleep. I will wrap the tools up quickly in their bag, and slip them into my jerkin. If we are summoned from the cell, and are likely to be searched, I shall endeavour, as we go, to drop the parcel behind the door, where it cannot be seen unless someone enters the cell and deliberately looks behind the door, which is not very likely unless they suspect us of having got hold of any tools. Now remember what I say. No more talk now, Harry; we shall require all our breath for working."

They slaved away with file and saw, never ceasing work for a moment, until their muscles utterly refused to allow their tired arms to make another movement, and then they rested for a moment to recover. Harry and Roger each worked on a separate bar of the grating, and so equal had been their efforts that each lad's bar was cut through at the same time.

"There go two nails drawn from our coffins, Roger," said Harry, and he attacked his second bar with the energy born of deserved success. Roger uttered no word, but saved all his breath, and put every ounce of his strength into his arms, cutting away with file and saw like a very madman.

As the bars were cut out they were laid carefully on the sill in front of them, so as to be at hand for replacement directly any suspicious sound was heard. All night long they worked, and with such a will that soon after daybreak next morning but two bars remained to be cut through. As usual, an hour or two after dawn they heard the click of the trap as their food was placed in the cell; but it startled them only for a moment, for they had not overlooked the fact that their food was due to arrive. Moreover, they knew that the aperture was so small that there was but just room to pass a small platter through it, and that, even if the jailer should attempt to spy on them, the window was beyond his range of vision. The sound, however, recalled the fact to their minds that they were very hungry, and that if they wished to keep up their strength they must eat. And, as Harry said, they had done good work during the night, so that they could spare the time. The tools were therefore packed up and hidden away; the bars already cut were replaced so that anybody chancing to look in should notice nothing out of the ordinary; then the stools were removed from below the window, and both lads sat down to their morning meal with keener appetites than they had known for some months past. Everything in the cell presented its usual appearance, and the twain were hastily finishing their meal when the tramp of feet was heard in the passage. No quiet, stealthy footstep this time, but a clatter of several approaching men which there was no mistaking. Roger and Harry looked at one another, dismay written all over their countenances. What was to happen now? Had the hour for their execution been advanced again, and were they to be led out to death at once, or was their cell to be changed and all their labour rendered useless, and their chance of escape destroyed at the very last moment? These, and a hundred other surmises, chased each other rapidly through the lads' minds as they listened with bated breath to the noise of the approaching footsteps. Each, however, pulled himself together, and by the time that the cell door was opened the lads presented absolutely expressionless faces to their enemies. The door clanged open, disclosing to their sight a number of men in black robes and cowls.

"His Excellency the Viceroy requires the attendance of you both," said one of the masked inquisitors in a deep voice and in remarkably good English. "Follow me at once."

The man turned to lead the way. Harry followed close on his heels; but as Roger prepared to leave the cell he pretended to stumble, and when picking himself up adroitly deposited the little satchel of tools behind the open door. His action, he was much relieved to notice, attracted no attention, and he had the satisfaction of seeing the cell door closed after them, and of knowing, therefore, that the precious implements were safe for the time being.

They were led through the self-same passages and corridors by which they had walked to the torture-chamber a few days before, and their hearts sank within them, for this second journey seemed to them ominous of evil.

Yes, it was but too true. In a few minutes they reached the door of that Chamber of Horrors, passed through it, heard it shut after them, and found themselves once more in the presence of that arch-fiend, Alvarez, "Viceroy of the Province, Governor of the City, and Chief of the Holy Inquisition in the town of Vera Cruz". They were not long left in doubt as to what was in store for them. Alvarez spoke:

"I understand that you two young men formerly belonged to the squadron of that most pestilent heretic and pirate, Cavendish; is it not so? Answer me!"

"Yes," replied Harry, "we belonged, and consider that we still belong, to the ship of Mr Cavendish, who is no pirate, but a noble and true English gentleman."

"Silence!" snarled Alvarez. "Do not dare to speak in that way to me! Answer my questions only, and make no remarks of your own. I say that the man Cavendish is a pirate, and that is sufficient. Now, you are both heretics, that I know, and I am shortly going to the trouble of attempting to convert you to the only true faith, through the gentle, loving, and persuasive methods applied to heretics by the most Holy Inquisition. You had an example, only the other day, of the way in which Mother Church deals with those who obey her not. She always uses the most gentle means to bring about conversion, and would lead heretics to a knowledge of the true faith by loving-kindness alone, as no doubt you noticed in the case of the man de Soto, who was undergoing the process of persuasion when you were last here." And he gave vent to a most horrible and grating laugh.

"I am deeply grieved to inform you," he continued, "that de Soto persisted in denying all knowledge of a certain matter, and—well, he is dead now, rest his soul!" he added sardonically.

"Since seeing you two," he resumed, "I have come to the conclusion that I was perhaps somewhat hasty with de Soto, and imagine it is possible that he did not possess the knowledge I credited him with, and it may be that I punished him unjustly. But that little matter is now past regret, and we have to deal with the present. The matter in hand deals with the loss of a certain document from the cabin of a Spanish war-vessel, the Gloria del Mundo, which ship you both doubtless remember. I thought at first that de Soto was responsible for its disappearance; but, if my memory serves me aright, you two lads left the vessel after de Soto and myself, and, from what I have gathered, I imagine that you may know something about the paper. If you know, tell me where it is, and I will spare you; but if you decide not to speak— well, you saw what de Soto suffered the other day, and his treatment was gentle compared with what yours will be unless you decide to tell me where that paper is to be found, for I am convinced that you know. Now, speak; speak—you!" Again Harry acted as spokesman, and replied:

"Senor Alvarez, we have heard what you say, and we know to what paper you refer; but we have it not. It is no longer in existence, and consequently it can never be found. You may do your worst; but though you should torture us both to death, it is not in our power, or that of any other mortal, to give you a document which does not now exist."

"I do not believe you," shouted Alvarez. "It cannot be so. That paper must be somewhere," he foamed, "and I will have it if I am compelled to tear you limb from limb to get it. Will you speak, or will you not?" Alvarez literally foamed at the mouth with rage, for indeed he was nearly mad with disappointment. In spite of himself, he had an inward conviction that what Harry said was true, and that, do what he might, he would never again set eyes on that paper, the possession of which he so earnestly desired.

Revenge, however, sweet revenge, still remained, and that he could and would have. He had worked himself up to a pitch of fury that very closely approached madness; moreover, his bitter disappointment demanded alleviation through the suffering of him who had inflicted it. So, without waiting for a reply, he roared, pointing to Harry:

"Seize that lad who spoke, and put him to the torture. I will soon see whether he still refuses to speak when I command! Bind that other one, and let him see all that happens; for it will be his turn next, and he may as well know what is in store for him. Ha! ha!" and he laughed again with sardonic fury.

Both lads struggled desperately in the grip of the black-cowled inquisitors; but their struggles were fruitless, and in a few minutes Harry was lying on the floor bound, while Roger was tied in an upright position to one of the pillars of the chamber, in such a fashion that, do as he would, he could not avoid witnessing the tortures that were to be executed upon the body of his dear friend and bosom companion from his boyhood upwards. At the last moment Roger would have intervened to save Harry, actually offering to yield up the coveted secret if Alvarez would relent. But the latter refused; his lust of blood was aroused, his passion for witnessing the agony of others must be satiated at any cost. Moreover, was not Roger in his power? He would compel the lad to witness his friend's sufferings; give him the night wherein to dwell upon them; and, next morning, first wring the secret from him under a threat of torture, and afterwards—

It is unnecessary to harrow the feelings of the reader with a description of what next took place in that ghastly chamber. Suffice it to say that the torture and examination of Harry lasted until mid-day, when it was seen that his senses had left him, and that he was no longer conscious of the dreadful injuries that were being inflicted upon him. He was then carried back to the cell and laid upon the floor, while Roger was unbound and allowed to accompany him. The door was closed and bolted, and Roger was alone with the pitiful, scarred, torn, and bleeding wreck of his friend. He fetched water from the jug and forced a few drops down Harry's throat, laved his brow, and bound up his seared and bleeding wounds as best he could. Presently Harry opened his eyes, and, seeing Roger bending over him, smiled even amid his pain.

"Do not weep, Roger, old friend," he said, noticing the tears running down his chum's face; "they have done their utmost on me, and I shall not last out long enough to surfer at their hands again. Nay, Roger, dear lad, it is of no use. You cannot save me, and indeed I do not desire to live; for of what use would life be to one in my condition? They have torn the life so nearly from my poor body that there is but little remaining, and that little you could not save, my dear old friend. You did your best before they began upon me, and failed. No man could do more. Just put your doublet under my head to keep it off the hard stone, dear lad; and oh, Roger, do not weep so bitterly; it tears my heart to see you. I feel but little pain now, and what still remains will not be for long. Now, Roger, listen to me, my friend. I shall be gone very soon; do not, I pray you, stay grieving over my body after I am dead, for that will avail me nothing, and only involve you in my fate. Therefore, get those tools and cut away at that grating, so that you will be ready when that unknown friend of ours comes to assist you to escape. Promise me, Roger. You will win home safely; I know it; I feel that you will. And you will take care of Mary, my dear sister Mary, will you not, Roger? See that she comes to no harm, old friend. Remember the secret of that cryptogram, Roger, and fetch that treasure away; my share of it is yours, my friend. I do not tell you to give it to Mary, for I think you can guess what I mean when I say I do not think it will be necessary. Roger," he resumed after a short silence, broken only by the deep sobs of his sorrowing companion, "Roger, dear lad, hold my hand, for it is getting very dark, and I cannot see. I like to feel that you are near me, and I have no fear." His breathing now grew rapidly weaker, until presently only a faint fluttering sigh could be heard; then his eyes opened again, and he said: "Good-bye, Roger, I am going, dear lad and faithful comrade; good-bye, and God bless you! Remember what I said about preparing for to-night; and do not grieve for me, for indeed I am quite happy. Good-bye!" His head fell back, his breathing ceased, and Roger knew that he was now alone. Alone in prison, and still in the hands of the Holy Office. He reverently closed the eyes of his chum, and covered his face, after which he remained seated by the side of the body of the beloved dead, lost in bitter thought and sorrowful retrospection.

He was aroused by hearing the click of the trap-door in the wall as the food was thrust in, and this recalled him to himself.

He remembered Harry's last injunction, that he was to continue the work of cutting through the bars of the grating in order to be ready to escape when midnight came. And he also remembered that Harry had given his sister Mary into his charge, and enjoined him to look after and take care of her.

How could he do this if he remained where he was, and lost his life, even as poor Harry had lost his? No, he must put away his grief and melancholy thoughts until a more convenient season. If he wished to fulfil his promises to his dead friend, he must first escape. Actuated by these reflections, he feverishly seized the tools once more and set to work on the remaining two bars of the grating. The work took longer, labouring by himself, but eventually one bar was cut through entirely, and but one more remained. The night was getting on, however. There was no means of knowing what hour it was, but he felt that it must be nearing the appointed time. He seized one of the saws and began work on the last bar, and at last cut it through also at the top. He had barely finished that part of his task when a pebble came clattering up against the wall just below the grating. The man was there already then! He left the bar for a moment and lowered away the cord, and presently he felt the now familiar jerking at the end and hauled it up. There was a missive at the end, and, unfastening it from the cord, Roger took it to the friendly patch of moonlight and read as follows:—

"I have heard the news already, and am sorry. But I have come to save you, as it is to be your turn to-morrow. Come at once, if you can; but if you have not quite finished, I can wait a little. When you are ready, send down the cord, and I will attach the rope. You can haul that up and fasten it securely. Then climb down as quickly as you can.

"We are in luck to-night. Before dark fell I noticed an English vessel in the offing. She is still there. If we can but seize a boat we shall be able to reach her, and we shall then be safe, so hasten."

Roger very quickly glanced through this communication, and prepared to finish his work on the bar, when he noticed that it was the only one remaining. In his abstraction he had already cut through one end of the last bar—the only one to which he could secure the rope. Luckily, he had cut it at the top end; so he trusted that, if the rope were fastened securely at the bottom, it would bear his weight. He quickly lowered away his cord again, and in another minute felt the welcome tug, which signified that the means of his escape was secured at the end of the cord. He hauled away slowly, for this time the burden was heavy, but eventually he saw the end of a good stout rope make its appearance at the grating. He gathered in a sufficient length, and secured it firmly to the one remaining bar; and, as he did so, it dawned upon him that, had his rescue come but a little later, he would himself, in his grief and abstraction, have destroyed his only chance of ever being able to escape, by removing the last bar altogether.

All being now ready, Roger went over to Harry's body, and, tenderly kissing the poor white lips, said, very softly: "Good-bye, dear lad, until we meet again. I will amply avenge thee!" Then, with his knife he cut off a lock of his friend's hair, and placed it securely in his bosom. He cast one more look round the cell, and then hauled himself up into the embrasure, and, forcing his body through the opening, seized the rope, with a fervent prayer in his heart for deliverance, and began the descent. After what seemed an eternity he felt a pair of strong arms flung round him, and he was eased to the ground.

"Come along, sir," exclaimed the unknown man in a whisper; "we have no time to lose. They seem more wakeful than usual to-night, aloft there," pointing upward at the building with his thumb, "and they may find out your absence at any moment. Then we should both be lost, unless we were well clear of this accursed building. Now, speak no more, on your life, but do as I do, and follow me. If anybody accosts us, leave the answering to me. Cover your face as well as you can, and come along."

He grasped Roger's hand, and together they set off through the darkness. The rope they were obliged to leave as it was, having no means of removing it. Through the little gateway—which Roger had seen this same man pass on one occasion—they went, and found themselves in another and much larger courtyard, planted with all kinds of flowering shrubs and trees. These could only be dimly seen in the darkness, but Roger judged, from their presence, that they were now going through that part of the building where the quarters of the occupants were situated. After a short time, occupied in fast walking, they came to an alleyway, or small avenue, down which they hastened, and at the end of this was a closed door of exceptionally stout and strong construction. Roger believed, seeing it closed, that their attempt at escape had met with a premature end; but no, the guide pressed a handle gently, and the door swung open, and as Roger stepped out he felt the cool salt breeze blowing on his face, and he knew that he was free at last. Free, after months of weary imprisonment, torture, and suffering; yes, free! His whole body seemed to expand to the grateful influence of the gentle sea-breeze; but his heart was very, very sad for the loss of his friend.

The two fugitives plunged onward, across streets, down alleys, and up steps, until they come to a huge open square, at the rear of which an enormous building towered high. In the middle of the square was to be made out, dimly, a pile or heap of some sort, with what looked liked a short, thick pole, standing upright above it. Roger asked his guide in a whisper what it was. The man replied:

"This big square is the Plaza of Vera Cruz, and the large building yonder is the cathedral. That peculiar-shaped object you see there is a heap of wood and straw surrounding a stake, and on that heap, bound to that stake, you and your friend were doomed to die to-morrow!"

Roger felt his flesh creep, and hurried forward at an increased rate of speed. Presently, after going down a very narrow and steep street, Roger perceived that they had reached the beach, and he heard the dull "boom" of the surf as it rolled in and broke on the sand.

The guide now spoke to him. "Do you see a small light out there, well away in the offing?"

"I think I can see something of the kind," replied Roger.

"Well," explained the man, "that vessel is my old ship, the Elizabeth. I was aboard her last time she came out here, and I was captured during one of her actions. She is one of Mr Cavendish's vessels. I hear that he left her in these seas to harry the Spaniards, whilst he took the rest of the fleet round the other side, where he has just captured their plate fleet. I shall be right glad to get back aboard her again."

"What!" exclaimed Roger in astonishment; "is that the dear old Elizabeth? Why, I know her captain and crew well. Many is the time I have been aboard her."

"Is that so, sir?" queried the man. "Then you will know old Cary, perhaps, who used to be aboard her."

"Ay," replied Roger, "I know him well; but he was on the flag-ship, the Stag Royal, and not the Elizabeth, when I saw him last."

"Well," said the sailor, "in any case we must not waste time—hark, hark, there go the bells! They have discovered your escape. Now we must be moving, for our very lives. This way."

And he hurried along a quay wall, which formed one of the arms of a little harbour where small craft might lie.

The bells were indeed clanging wildly, and the noise was deafening. Voices were to be heard now—snouts and cries; though whether the people were yet on their track or not they could not tell. Along the wall they hastened at a run, until they came to a small lateen-rigged vessel, secured to the farthest end of the mole, and with her one huge sail roughly furled round the yard. They dashed on board, cut the ropes through, and the sailor, swarming up the rigging, cut the lashings, and the foot of the lateen sail dropped down on deck. Roger hauled the sheet aft and made it fast, then sprang to the tiller, and the little craft began to move away from the mole under the influence of the breeze.

"Lucky we found no one aboard," gasped the sailor, whose name was Mathews; "but then I did not expect that there would be anybody about; they never leave a watch on these little craft."

Roger still grasped the helm, and steered through the harbour's mouth for the tiny point of light, which was the beacon of their safety, while Mathews busied himself with the sail, and with making all snug on deck.

Although the town of Vera Cruz itself was still in darkness, away to the eastward the first streaks of day were already showing, and the light on the English man-of-war lying in the offing was growing fainter. Away behind them, from the direction of the mole, the two fugitives could hear a sound as of many people in pursuit, and presently a dark patch detached itself from the darkness, and appeared to be following them; and soon they made it out to be the sail of a vessel very similar to the one they had so unceremoniously captured. She was a much larger craft, and after a while there could be no doubt that she was overhauling them. But they were now drawing well out toward the English vessel, although the latter had not yet sighted them, and the issue, so far, hung on the race between the two feluccas. The pursuing vessel crept up closer and ever closer, and Roger and Mathews began to picture themselves as adorning that bonfire in the plaza after all.

But now the English ship seemed to awake to what was going forward, and to take in the situation at once. That one felucca was flying and the other pursuing they could see at a glance. There was a puff of white smoke from her side, and a shot flew screaming over their heads and plunged into the water just in front of the pursuing felucca. Still she held on, gaining remorselessly. Her crew began to fire at the fugitives, compelling them to steer in a crouching position below the bulwarks. By an occasional backward glance Roger saw her gradually creeping up, and wondered why the English ship did not fire again; then he discovered that his own vessel was in the line of fire. The Spaniards had cleverly managed to get exactly behind him, so that the English could not fire without hitting the foremost vessel. Therefore Roger risked his life and liberty in a desperate manoeuvre. With a sweep of the tiller he put the helm hard over, and the little vessel bounded away on the opposite tack, leaving her pursuer without shelter. The English ship—the crew of which were evidently waiting for something of the sort to happen—took immediate advantage of her opportunity, and let fly her whole broadside, luckily bringing down the pursuer's mast. After that the fugitives were safe, and half an hour later were on board the old Elizabeth, Roger talking to the captain and his fellow-officers, and Mathews below, relating marvellous adventures to his former mess-mates. Roger gave a full and graphic account of all that had happened to himself and Harry, and told of his poor friend's death.

Luckily it turned out that the Elizabeth was on her way from the Indies to England, and had only anchored during the night in the hope of sighting one more prize; so it was by the merest chance that Roger escaped after all. The captain now made sail, and pointed his vessel's bows for home. The voyage lasted just three months, and they met with no single enemy on the whole way.

The ship sailed into Plymouth Sound one bright summer's morning, and, after his long absence, Roger looked once more on the country of his birth. Taking leave of the captain and officers the moment that the ship was moored and he was at liberty, he made his way up the river, as once before, to his home.

He found all his people alive and well, and great and long-continued were the rejoicings at his safe return; but poor Mary Edgwyth remained for a long time quite inconsolable at the loss of her dearly-loved brother.

But time heals all wounds, and when at length Roger asked her a certain question, her sorrow had sufficiently abated to admit of her saying "Yes" by way of answer.

Prior to this, however, Roger fitted out a small expedition on his own account, and sailed for Lonely Inlet, in order to secure the treasure of Jose Leirya.

He found it, strangely enough, in the identical cave where Harry and he had kept the savages at bay, and its value proved to be vastly greater than even he had imagined, despite all that he had heard regarding it.

Roger remained in those seas only long enough to secure the treasure, upon successfully accomplishing which he turned his bows once again for home, arriving in the summer, even as he had done before. Meanwhile the lapse of time had so far ameliorated Mary's sorrow for the loss of her brother that there was nothing now to prevent the marriage taking place, and on a certain lovely summer's morning Roger and Mary were united in Plympton Church; and their married life was all that their best friends could desire for them.

With part of the treasure Roger fitted out a few small ships of his own, which he sent to the Indies to harry the Dons and avenge the death of his friend; but he did not himself go with the expeditions, saying that, unless his country required his services, he would remain at home and take care of Mary.

In due course a little son came to them, whom they named Harry, in remembrance of the one who was gone; and with the arrival of the little new-comer all sorrowful memory of the past was finally wiped out, leaving only the future to be looked forward to, bright and rose-coloured.

Thus, after all the deeds of horror and bloodshed by which the treasure of Jose Leirya had been accumulated, that same treasure was productive of good at last; for by Roger's judicious use of it, and his generous yet discriminative charity, he healed as many hurts perhaps as had been inflicted in the accumulation of it.

The story of those expeditions fitted out by Roger against his hated enemies the Spaniards, and of the dire and terrible vengeance that they wrought upon Alvarez, constitute in themselves a very complete history, teeming with adventure, which the present chronicler hopes some day to place upon record.

THE END