First I plied him with questions which he answered with rare intelligence, giving me the exact location of the powder-room prison cell in relation to its surroundings, and telling me what lay beyond the fortress walls behind it--a ravelin, a ditch, outworks, and then the beach. Then I gave him his instructions. “You remember the sea-captain who sent you to fetch me to the tavern?” Champe nodded. “He is with us, though he claims to be a neutral and is allowed to go and come as a trader, under some surveillance. His schooner lies in the East River, ready to put to sea, if it has not already sailed. Your task is to find the ship and the man, if they are within finding distance. Tell the captain what has befallen me, and you may add that I’m going to try to break jail. If I succeed, a few stout friends, to be waiting on the beach at the southeastern angle of the fort at half an hour before midnight, might turn the scale for me.” “I’ll find him if I have to go to hell to make the search a thorough one. But what hope have you of breaking out of this, Captain Dick?” I dragged him across the room and showed him the outlined door in the earthward wall. “You are to smuggle me something to dig with,” I told him, and instantly he searched in his pockets and found a huge clasp-knife. “Will that do, think you?” he asked. “I’ll make it do for the brickwork, though, the good Lord knows, I may need a pick and shovel for anything this bricked-up door tells me of what is beyond it. But never mind; go you and do your part, Sergeant. And one other thing: Captain Sprigg has either gone to sea, or is about to go, as I have told you, and his errand is to convey two women home to Virginia. One of those women is my cousin, and the other--” “The other will be somewhat more than a cousin, if you live to get free of this: I take you, Captain.” “Good. Then you will see to it yourself that whatever may be done toward helping me, there must be a sufficient guard left to protect the women. That is all, I believe, though I would give much for a weapon of some sort bigger than this pocket-knife to even me with those who will seek to stop me after I burrow out.” At that Champe unbuttoned his great watchcoat and showed me my good Scots rapier hanging by a thong around his neck; and I could have shouted for joy. “Where did you find it?--and how could you pass the guard with it?” I demanded. “I found it in the barracks, where one of Warnock’s men had flung it aside,” he explained. “I thought first to bring your own horse-saber, which I was wearing, but Warnock made me put it away before he would let me see you. I did put it away, but I hid this other in my coat at the same time.” With midnight coming nearer at every breath we drew, I gave Champe his final word.