Chapter 20. Loches

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_ "A British officer; broke out from Lille. Ah!" the Governor of Loches said to himself, as he glanced over the royal order. "Something else beyond that, I fancy. Prisoners of war who try to break prison are not sent to Loches. I suppose he has been in somebody's way very seriously. A fine young fellow, too--a really splendid fellow. A pity really; however, it is not my business.

"Number four, in the south tower," he said, and Rupert was led away.

Number four was a cell on the third story of the south tower. More than that Rupert did not know. There was no looking out from the loopholes that admitted light, for they were boarded up on the outside. There was a fireplace, a table, a chair, and a bedstead. Twice a day a gaoler entered with provisions; he made no reply to Rupert's questions, but shook his head when spoken to.

For the first week Rupert bore his imprisonment with cheerfulness, but the absolute silence, the absence of anything to break the dreary monotony, the probability that he might remain a prisoner all his life, was crushing even to the most active and energetic temperament.

At the end of a month the gaoler made a motion for him to follow him. Ascending the stairs to a great height, they reached the platform on the top of the tower.

Rupert was delighted with the sight of the sky, and of the wide-spreading fields--even though the latter was covered with snow. For a half-an-hour he paced rapidly round and round the limited walk. Presently the gaoler touched him, and pointing below, said:

"Look!"

Rupert looked over the battlement, and saw a little party issue from a small postern gate far below him, cross the broad fosse, and pause in an open space formed by an outlying work beyond. They bore with them a box.

"A funeral?" Rupert asked.

The man nodded.

"They all go out at last," he said, "but unless they tell what they are wanted to tell, they go no other way."

Five minutes later Rupert was again locked up in his cell, when he was, in the afternoon of the same day, visited by the governor, who asked if he would say where he had taken Mademoiselle Pignerolles.

"You may as well answer," he said. "You will never go out alive unless you do."

Rupert shook his head.

"I do not admit that I know aught concerning the lady you name; but did I so, I should prefer death to betraying her."

"Ay," the governor said, "you might do that; but death is very preferable to life at Loches."

In a day or two Rupert found himself again desponding.

"This will not do," he said earnestly. "I must arouse myself. Let me think, what have I heard that prisoners do? In the first place they try to escape; and some have escaped from places as difficult as Loches. Well, that is one thing to be thought very seriously about. In the next place, I have heard of their making pets of spiders and all sorts of things. Well, I may come to that, but at present I don't like spiders well enough to make pets of them; besides I don't see any spiders to make pets of. Then some prisoners have carved walls, but I have no taste for carving.

"I might keep my muscles in order and my health good by exercise with the chair and table; get to hold them out at arm's length, lift the table with one hand, and so on. Yes, all sorts of exercise might be continued in that way, and the more I take exercise the better I shall sleep at night and enjoy my meals. Yes, with nothing else to do I might become almost a Samson here.

"There, now my whole time is marked out--escape from prison, and exercise. I'll try the last first, and then think over the other."

For a long time Rupert worked away with his furniture until he had quite exhausted himself; then feeling happier and better than he had done since he was shut up, he began to think of plans of escape. The easiest way would of course be to knock down and gag the gaoler, and to escape in the clothes; but this plan he put aside at once, as it was morally certain that he should be no nearer to his escape after reaching the courtyard of the prison, than he was in the cell. There remained then the chimney, the loophole, and the solid wall.

The chimney was the first to disappear from the calculation. Looking up it, Rupert saw that it was crossed by a dozen iron bars, the height too was very great, and even when at the top the height was immense to descend to the fosse.

The loophole was next examined. It was far too narrow to squeeze through, and was crossed by three sets of bars. The chance of widening the narrow loophole and removing the bars without detection was extreme; besides, Rupert had a strong idea that the loophole looked into the courtyard.

Finally he came to the conclusion, that if an escape was to be made it must be by raising a flag of the floor, tunnelling between his room and that underneath it, and working out through the solid wall. It would be a tremendous work, for the loophole showed him that the wall must be ten feet thick; still, as he said to himself, it will be at least something to do and to think about, and even if it takes five years and comes to nothing, it will have been useful.

Thus resolved, Rupert went to work, and laboured steadily. His exercise with the chair and table succeeded admirably, and after six months he was able to perform feats of strength with them that surprised himself. With his scheme for escape he was less fortunate. Either his tools were faulty, or the stones he had to work upon were too compact and well built, but beyond getting up the flag, making a hole below it in the hard cement which filled in the space between the floor, large enough to bury a good sized cat, Rupert achieved nothing.

He had gone into prison in November, it was now August, and he was fast coming to the idea that Loches was not to be broken out of by the way in which he was attempting to do it.

One circumstance gave him intense delight. Adele's hiding place had not been discovered. This he was sure of by the urgency with which the governor strove to extract from him the secret of her whereabouts. Their demands were at the last meeting mingled with threats, and Rupert felt that the governor had received stringent orders to wring the truth from him. So serious did these menaces become that Rupert ceased to labour at the floor of his cell, being assured that ere long some change or other would take place. He was not mistaken. One day the governor entered, attended, as usual, by the gaoler and another official.

"Sir," he said to Rupert, "we can no longer be trifled with. I have orders to obtain from you the name of the place to which you escorted the young lady you went off with. If you refuse to answer me, a different system to that which has hitherto been pursued will be adopted. You will be removed from this comfortable room and placed in the dungeons. Once there, you must either speak or die, for few men are robust enough to exist there for many weeks.

"I am sorry, sir, but I have my duty to do. Will you speak, or will you change your room?"

"I will change my room," Rupert said, quietly. "I may die; but if by any chance I should ever see the light again, be assured that all Europe shall know how officers taken in war are treated by the King of France."

The governor shrugged his shoulders, made a sign to the gaoler, who opened the door, and as the governor left four other warders entered the room. Rupert smiled, he knew that this display of force was occasioned by the fact that his gaoler, entering his room suddenly, had several times caught him balancing the weighty table on his arm or performing other feats which had astounded the Frenchman. The work at the cell wall had always been done at night.

"I am ready to accompany you," Rupert said, and without another word followed his conductor downstairs.

Arrived at a level with the yard, another door was unlocked, and the party descended down some stairs, where the cold dampness of the air struck a chill to Rupert's heart. Down some forty feet, and then a door was unlocked, and Rupert saw his new abode. It was of about the same size as the last, but was altogether without furniture. In one corner, as he saw by the light of a lantern which the gaoler carried, was a stone bench on which was a bundle of straw. The walls streamed with moisture, and in some places the water stood in shallow pools on the floor; the dungeon was some twelve feet high; eight feet from the ground was a narrow loophole, eighteen inches in height and about three inches wide. The gaoler placed a pitcher of water and a piece of bread on the bench, and then without a word the party left.

Rupert sat quiet on the bench for an hour or two before his eyes became sufficiently accustomed to the darkness to see anything, for but the feeblest ray of light made its way through so small a loophole in a wall of such immense thickness.

"The governor was right," he muttered to himself. "A month or two of this place would kill a dog."

It was not until the next day that the gaoler made his appearance. He was not the same who had hitherto attended him, but a powerful-looking ruffian who was evidently under no orders as to silence such as those which had governed the conduct of the other.

"Well," he began, "and how does your worship like your new palace?"

"It is hardly cheerful," Rupert said; "but I do not know that palaces are ever particularly cheerful."

"You are a fine fellow," the gaoler said, looking at Rupert by the light of his lantern. "I noted you yesterday as you came down, and I thought it a pity then that you would not say what they wanted you to. I don't know what it is, and don't want to; but when a prisoner comes down here, it is always because they want to get something out of him, or they want to finish with him for good and all. You see you are below the level of the moat here. The water comes at ordinary times to within six inches of that slit up there. And in wet weather it happens sometimes that the stream which feeds the moat swells, and if it has been forgotten to open the sluice gates of the moat, it will rise ten feet before morning. I once knew a prisoner drowned in the cell above this."

"Well," Rupert said, calmly. "After all one may as well be drowned as die by inches. I don't owe you any ill will, but I should be almost glad if I did, for then I should dash your brains out against the wall, and fight till they had to bring soldiers down to kill me."

The man gave a surly growl.

"I have my knife," he said.

"Just so," Rupert answered; "and it may be, although I do not think it likely, that you might kill me before I knocked your brains out; but that would be just what I should like. I repeat, it is only because I have no ill will towards you that I don't at once begin a struggle which would end in my death one way or another."

The gaoler said no more; but it was clear that Rupert's words had in no slight degree impressed him, for he was on all his future visits as civil as it was within his nature to be.

"Whenever you wish to see the governor, he will come to you." he said to Rupert one day.

"If the governor does not come till I send for him," Rupert answered, "he will never come."

Even in this dungeon, where escape seemed hopeless, Rupert determined to do his best to keep life and strength together. Nothing but the death of the king seemed likely to bring relief, and that event might be many years distant. When it took place, his old friend would, he was sure, endeavour in every way to find out where he was confined, and to obtain his release. At any rate he determined to live as long as he could; and he kept up his spirits by singing scraps of old songs, and his strength by such gymnastic exercises as he could carry out without the aid of any movable article. At first he struck out his arms as if fighting, so many hundred of times; then he took to walking on his hands; and at last he loosened one of the stones which formed the top of the bed, and invented all sorts of exercises with it.

"What is the day and month?" he said one day to his gaoler.

"It is the 15th of October."

"It is very dark," Rupert said, "darker than usual."

"It is raining," the jailer said; "raining tremendously."

Late that night Rupert was awoke by the splashing of water. He leaped to his feet. The cell was already a foot deep in water.

"Ha!" he exclaimed, "it is one thing or the other now."

Rupert had been hoping for a flood; it might bring death, but he thought that it was possible that it might bring deliverance.

The top of the loophole was some two and a half feet from the vaulted roof; the top of the door was about on the same level, or some six inches lower. The roof arched some three feet above the point whence it sprang.

Rupert had thought it all over, and concluded that it was possible, nay almost certain, that even should the water outside rise ten feet above the level of his roof, sufficient air would be pent up there to prevent the water from rising inside, and to supply him with sufficient to breathe for many hours. He was more afraid of the effects of cold than of being drowned. He felt that in a flood in October the water was likely to be fairly warm, and he congratulated himself that it was now, instead of in December, that he should have to pass through the ordeal.

Before commencing the struggle, he kneeled for some time in prayer on his bed, and then, with a firm heart, rose to his feet and awaited the rising of the water. This was rapid indeed. It was already two feet over his bed, and minute by minute it rose higher.

When it reached his chin, which it did in less than a quarter of an hour from the time when he had first awoke, he swam across to the loophole, which was now but a few inches above the water, and through which a stream of water still poured. Impossible as it was for any human being to get through the narrow slit, an iron bar had been placed across it. Of this Rupert took hold, and remained quiescent as the water mounted higher and higher; presently it rose above the top of the loophole, and Rupert now watched anxiously how fast it ran. Floating on his back, and keeping a finger at the water level against the wall, he could feel that the water still rose. It seemed to him that the rise was slower and slower, and at last his finger remained against a point in the stones for some minutes without moving. The rise of the water inside the dungeon had ceased.

That it continued outside he guessed by a slight but distinct feeling of pressure in the air, showing that the column of water outside was compressing it. He had no fear of any bad consequences from this source, as even a height of twelve feet of water outside would not give any unbearable pressure. He was more afraid that he himself would exhaust the air, but he believed that there would be sufficient; and as he knew that the less he exerted himself the less air he required, he floated quietly on his back, with his feet resting on the bar across the loophole, now two feet under water.

He scarcely felt the water cold. The rain had come from a warm quarter; and the temperature of the water was actually higher than that of the cold and humid dungeon.

Hour after hour passed. The night appeared interminable. From time to time Rupert dived so as to look through the loophole, and at last was rewarded by seeing a faint dull light. Day was beginning; and Rupert had no doubt that with early morning the sluices would be opened, and the moat entirely cleared of water.

He had, when talking with his gaoler one day, asked him how they got rid of the water in the dungeon after a flood, and the man said that there were pipes from the floor of each dungeon into the moat. At ordinary times these pipes were closed by wooden plugs, as the water outside was far above the floor; but that after a flood the water was entirely let out of the moat, and the plugs removed from the pipes, which thus emptied the dungeons.

From the way in which the fellow described the various arrangements, Rupert had little doubt that the sluice gates were at times purposely left closed, in order to clear off troublesome prisoners who might otherwise have remained a care and expense to the state for years to come.

Long as the night had seemed, it seemed even longer before Rupert felt that the water was sinking. He knew that after the upper sluice had opened the fosse might take some time to fall to the level of the water inside the dungeon, and that until it did the water inside would remain stationary.

He passed the hours by changing his position as much as possible; sometimes he swam round and round, at other times he trod water, then he would float quietly, then cling to the bar of the loophole.

The descent of the water came upon him at last as a surprise. He was swimming round and round, and had not for some time touched the wall, when suddenly a ray of light flashed in his face. He gave a cry of joy. The water had fallen below the top of the loophole, and swimming up to it, he could see across the fosse, and watch the sunlight sparkling on the water. It was two months since he had seen the light, and the feeling of joy overpowered him more than the danger he had faced.

Rapidly the water fell, until it was level with the bottom of the loophole. Then hours passed away; for the fosse would have to be emptied before the drain leading from the dungeon could be opened. However, Rupert hardly felt the time long. With his hands on the bar and in the loophole, he remained gazing out at the sunlight.

The water in the fosse sank and sank, until he could no longer see it; but he could see the sun glistening on the wet grass of the bank, and he was satisfied. At last he was conscious of a strain on his arm, and withdrawing his gaze from without, he saw that the water had fallen six inches.

It now sank rapidly; and in an hour he could stand with his head above it. Then he was able to sit down on his bed; but when the water sank to a depth of two feet, he again lay on his back and floated. He knew that a thick deposit of mud would be left, and that it was essential for his plan that he should drift to the exit hole of the water, and there be found, with the mud and slime undisturbed by footsteps or movement. Another ten minutes, and he lay on his back on the ground in a corner of the dungeon to which the water had floated him, having taken care towards the end to sink his head so that his hair floated partly over it, and as the water drained off remained so. He guessed it to be about midday, and he expected to be left undisturbed until night.

After a time he slept, and when he awoke it was dark, and soon after he heard steps coming down the stairs. Now was the moment of trial. Presently the door opened and four of the gaolers came in. They bore between them a stretcher.

"This is the fifth," one said, and he recognized the voice of his own attendant. "It is a pity, he was a fine fellow. Well, there's one more, and then the job's done."

He bent over Rupert, who ceased breathing.

"He's the only one with his eyes closed," he said. "I expect there's someone would break her heart if she knew he was lying here. Well, lift him up, mates."

The two months' imprisonment in the dungeon had done one good service for Rupert. The absence of light had blanched his face, and even had he been dead he could hardly have looked more white than he did. The long hours in the water had made his hands deadly cold, and the hair matted on his face added to the deathlike aspect.

"Put the stretcher on the ground, and roll him over on to it," one of the men said. "I don't mind a dead man, but these are so clammy and slimy that they are horrible to touch. There, stand between him and the wall, put a foot under him, roll him over. There, nothing could be better! Now then, off we go with him. The weight's more than twice as much as the others."

Rupert lay with his face down on the stretcher, and felt himself carried upstairs, then along several long passages, then through a door, and felt the fresh evening air. Now by the sound he knew that he was being carried over the bridge across the moat to the burying ground. Then the stretcher was laid down.

"Now then, roll him over into the hole," one said, "and let us go back for the last. Peste! I am sick of this job, and shall need a bottle of eau de vie to put me straight again."

One side of the stretcher was lifted, and Rupert was rolled over. The fall was not deep, some three or four feet only, and he fell on a soft mass, whose nature he could well guess at. A minute later he heard the retreating footsteps of his gaolers, and leaping from the grave, stood a free man by its side.

He knew that he was not only free, but safe from any active pursuit, for he felt sure that the gaolers, when they returned with their last load, would throw it in and fill up the grave, and that no suspicion that it contained one short of the number would arise.

This in itself was an immense advantage to him, for on the escape of a prisoner from Loches--an event which had happened but once or twice in its records--a gun was fired and the whole country turned out in pursuit of the prisoner.

Rupert paused for two minutes before commencing his flight, and kneeling down, thanked God for his escape. Then he climbed the low ramparts, dropped beyond them, and struck across country. The exercise soon sent the blood dancing through his hands again, and by the morning he was thirty-five miles from Loches.

He had stopped once, a mile or two after starting, when he came to a stream. Into this he had waded, and had washed the muck stains from his clothes, hair, and face.

With the morning dawn his clothes were dry, and he presented to the eye an aspect similar to that which he wore when captured at Blois nearly a year before, of a dilapidated and broken-down soldier, for he had retained in prison the clothes he wore when captured; but they had become infinitely more dingy from the wear and tear of prison, and the soaking had destroyed all vestige of colour.

Presently he came to a mill by a stream.

"Hallo!" the miller said cheerily, from his door. "You seem to have been in the wars, friend."

"I have in my way," Rupert said. "I was wounded in Flanders. I have been home to Bordeaux, and got cured again. I started for the army again, and some tramps who slept in the same room with me robbed me of my last shilling. To complete my disaster, last night, not having money to pay for a bed, I tramped on, fell into a stream, and was nearly drowned."

"Come in," said the miller. "Wife, here is a poor fellow out of luck. Give him a bowl of hot milk, and some bread." _

Read next: Chapter 21. Back in Harness

Read previous: Chapter 19. The Evasion

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