Chapter 6

The clanking of the heavy iron keys echoed across the bleak halls as one of their fellowkeys was pushed into the lock. A strong hand gave the door a yank and with a loud grown it opened.

“Chandler.” The warden called. “You have a visitor.”

The prisoner jerked his head and straightened from the slouched position he had been sitting in. His almond eyes lighting up as the small fire of hope burst into leaping flames. The spoken visitor nodded to the warden and walked through the low door. A glance at the two of them and the warden shut the door, and with another loud clank locked it.

The prisoner and visitor looked each other up and down for a moment. They were about the same age, yet no two men could be more different. The prisoner’s hair was a chestnut brown and his features lean, smooth and pleasant. One would say he had the perfect Grecian profile and he carried himself, with an air of grace and nobility. His visitor, though only a little shorter, seemed harsher, being both large and rough. His weather beaten hands were covered in calluses and blisters. His countenance spoke of him as being a man of sea, with eyes as dark as his hair. If the prisoner’s eyes were filled with hope, those of his visitor were filled with despair.

Callum surveyed the dingy bare cell.

“Alone?”

“For the time being,” Chandler replied, his voice tinted with a French accent. “My last prison mate was taken away last night; I don’t think I’ll be seeing him again. With time they’ll probably find someone else to put in here. Finding someone to put in a cell never seems to be a problem. Getting out is the difficulty. What took you so long? I knew of course you would find me, but somehow I had hoped it would be sooner than it turned out to be.”

“*Yer gratitude to *mah tireless searchin' is overwhelmin'.” Callum said with annoyance in a thick Scottish accent. “It’s not like yoo’ve bin the' easiest man to find. Besides, at first I thooght they woods be searchin' fur me as yer partner in crime, so I made myself scarce. When I realized I was not suspected I became bolder an' here I am. Though to be honest, why they dinnae suspect me I *cannae comprehend.”

“Oh,” Chandler smiled with satisfaction, “That’s easy to explain. When we were caught and I was arrested, I simply said that I always work alone. Used that story of how thieves ought never to have a partner because there is the risk of being betrayed. The fools ate every word. Thanks to that, you are not suspected in the least.”

“So plainly *'spikin, ye told a lie.”

“I used a ploy.”

“A lie.”

“A ploy.”

“Chandler, its th' sam thing.”

“Ah, but my way is more noble and less condemning.”

“How very French.”

“How very Chandler, being French has absolutely nothing to do with it.”

“Hae it yer way. So, now that I located ye I’ve only got tae ask how many years were ye given?”

“Five.”

“Only?”

“My cargo was not worth much.”

“I told ye it wasn’t worth th' risk.”

“Moving on.”

Callum frowned and shook his head. “French pride,” he muttered to himself. “Ye are here fur five years, this I know; ye won’t go anywhere, this I know too. Whit I would like to know is whit happened to Oceana?”

Chandler looked down. “I don’t know where she is. When I was arrested and wouldn’t answer questions they took her away; said something about placing her in an orphan asylum. I have no idea what asylum though. You're going to have your work cut out for you trying to locate it.”

Callum was silent for a moment. “Dinnae worry Chandler, I’ll fin' her. I’ll search every orphanage in Englain, Scootlund, an' Irelain. Honestly, how many can there be?”

“They also said something about trying to locate relatives.”

“Do ye think they’ll actually be able to?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t want you to take any chances. You find that girl before they can even get around trying to find relatives of any kind. I don’t want anybody but you getting a hold of that child. I am of the fixed opinion that any relative would only do her harm.”

 “Ye really think so?”

“Of course I do, relatives are always cruel to half-breeds.”

“Really, Chandler.” Callum rolled his eyes.

“I’m serious!”

“Ay coorse ye are, ye are always ‘serioos’ when it comes to this.”

“Callum, don’t you get sarcastic with me. If relatives won’t get her, some stupid person might get it into his head to adopt her. I tell you this, my Scotch friend; I’ll die before I let anyone other than you and me have that child.”

“Now, dinnae *frit Chandler, I’ll fin' that lassie an' I won’t *lit anyone else have 'her. I’ll start mah search as soon as I leave this prison an' I won’t leave one stone unturned. I’ll search an' search until I locate th' correct orphanage"

“Only there is one hitch.” Chandler suddenly remembered. “What will you do with her once you’ve got her? My ship has been confiscated.”

“Our ship.” Callum corrected. “Whit can I say, yoo’ve certainly got us into a *braw mess, monsieur Frenchman.”

Chandler frowned at Callum. “You don’t have to rub it in, just focus on what is most important at the moment. It will take you some time to find her. In the mean time; I’ll try and figure out a way for you to get OUR ship back.”

 Callum only set his mouth in a firm line and gave a grunt. 

“And don’t forget to visit me and write me and keep me posted on how things are going.” Chandler kept on.

Callum gave another nod of his head and the two men were silent for a few minutes, each pondering something.

“How ye gettin' along in this place?” Callum asked at last.

“Not so bad.” Chandler replied nonchalantly

"How they treating you?"

"Now that I'm alone it is all actually quite nice. I suppose I'll see what my new prison companion will be like. Maybe he'll be something horrid and incredibly animal like."

“If anyone *gi'es ye any trooble, I'll *gie them hell to pay."

“You’re unbelievably violent my dear Scotsman!”

“I *ne'er said I would beat anyone up.”

“I know the type of hell you give, and it’s not a pretty sight. You really should try giving hell my way.”

“Ah don’t know how to gie hell yer way. Remember, ye are th' diplomat, I am only a simple highlander.”

“Which explains why my brain is so much more advanced than yours.”

“I will remin' ye, monsieur Frenchman, 'at when things got physical, ye alway had me *tak' over *allth' fightin.”

“Precisely, this is why you and I always made such a good team; me being the brains and you the brawns. Which is why at the moment I am in a great deal of worry. How will you find Oceana without me being there to guide you?”

“It’s *nae like I am completely lackin' brains.” Callum was almost offended.

“But you lack an imagination and you don’t know how to scheme and count things out and make plans A, B, and C just in case. How on earth will you find her?”

“Th' sam way I foond anythin' in mah life, I’ll look. I don’t suppose anyone needs much brains fur lookin'. Ye have to sit here for five years an' there is nothin' ye can do abit it, an' worryin' isn’t gonnae do ye any good. Jist leave it to me.”

Chandler gave a frustrated groan. “Oh fine, I’ll just HAVE trust you, even though I’m inclined not too. And remember what I told you about forgetting me.”

“I dinnae remember ye sayin' somethin' abit forgettin' ye.”

“I told you NOT to forget me. There isn’t anyone in this wretched prison who even remotely understands my sense of humor. If you don’t visit me at least once in a while, I’ll go mad.”

“Och Chandler, Chandler, how will ye survife for five whole years wi' nobody to *kin yer humor, no constant change ay scenery, no ability to break th' rules, an' not a single woman?”

“Ah, well, it’s only for five years, it could have been more.”

Callum didn’t answer his friend. The door to the cell opened and the warden motioned that his time was up. The two men shook hands, and Callum left, the loud slamming of the cell door still ringing in his ears as he departed from the prison.

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