Now this pirate captain was a man who always wanted to have a share in
what was to happen, and he immediately racked his brain to find out what
he could do in this case. He had never been in a more desperate
situation, but he did not lose heart, and immediately set to work to
free himself from his irons, which were probably very clumsy affairs. At
last, caring little how much he scratched and tore his skin, he
succeeded in getting rid of his fetters, and could move about as freely
as a tiger in a cage. To get out of this cage was Bartholemy's first
object. It would be comparatively easy, because in the course of time
some one would come into the hold, and the athletic buccaneer thought
that he could easily get the better of whoever might open the hatch.
But the next act in this truly melodramatic performance would be a great
deal more difficult; for in order to escape from the ship it would be
absolutely necessary for Bartholemy to swim to shore, and he did not
know how to swim, which seems a strange failing in a hardy sailor with
so many other nautical accomplishments. In the rough hold where he was
shut up, our pirate, peering about, anxious and earnest, discovered two
large, earthen jars in which wine had been brought from Spain, and with
these he determined to make a sort of life-preserver.
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