“You know we agreed that we must make the best of everything,” Will said. “If we work as we are doing we can’t but please our overseers, and shall save ourselves from blows.” “They had better not strike me,” Dimchurch said; “the man that did it would never live to strike another.” “That might be,” Will said, “but it would be a small satisfaction to you if you were to be flogged to death afterwards.” “No, I suppose not, sir; but flesh and blood can’t stand such a thing as being struck by one of these yellow hounds.” At twelve o’clock the gang returned, and the men drank eagerly from a fountain in the courtyard of the prison. “Take as little as you can,” Will said; “if you drink much it will do you harm. You can drink often if you like, provided that you only take a sip at a time.” “It is easy to say, Mr. Gilmore, but it is not so easy to do. I feel as if I could drink till I burst.” “I dare say you do; I feel the same myself; but I am sure that to take a lot of water just now would do us harm instead of good.” Their abstinence so far benefited them that they felt their work in the afternoon less than they had done in the morning, though the heat was, if anything, greater. That evening they examined their prison. It consisted of one great hall supported by rows of pillars. Here the whole of the prisoners were confined. It was lighted by windows five-and-twenty feet from the ground. There was no guard inside, but fifty men, some of whom were always on sentry, slept outside the hall. It was clear to them, therefore, that no escape could be made after they were once locked up, and that if they were to get away at all they must make the attempt when they were employed outside. On the third day one of the sailors from the _Tartar_, who had disregarded Will’s advice to drink sparingly, fell down dead after drinking till he could drink no more. Scarcely a day passed without one or more of the captives succumbing; some of them went mad and were at once despatched by their guards. After working for a fortnight in the streets the gang were marched in another direction, and were put to labour on the fortifications. This was a great relief. They were now free from the choking dust of the streets, and obtained a view of the surrounding country. The three, as usual, laboured together, and showed so much zeal and activity that they pleased the head of their guard. They had the great advantage that they were accustomed to work together, while the majority of the gang had no such experience. There were men of all nationalities—French, Spanish, Italians, Maltese, and Greeks, and though most of them were accustomed to a warm climate, they had nothing like the strength of the three Englishmen. In moving heavy stones, therefore, the three friends were able to perform as much work as any dozen other prisoners. They were the only Englishmen in the gang, for the other two sailors had been from the first placed with another party.