Jailbreak
Baron Britpop Blastfurnace • Chapter 35
I asked Andelbert to write his recollection of this portion of the tale as I was confined to a jail cell with Stout.
Fortune was on our side that night, as it was a full moon. I cannot imagine how we would have flown in total darkness. By nightfall, the crew had the balloon unpacked and ready to fly. Then, they began preparing The Jellyfish for a quick getaway. The Captain and I would execute the rescue attempt.
We waited a few hours after sundown, then fired up the balloon. Once filled with hot air, we set off and silently floated toward Port Royale. I was the pilot. The wind made a sea approach the most viable path. We had loaded several cannonballs into the basket to simulate the weight of Britpop and Stout. We intended to drop the cannonballs on the roof of the prison from a significant height and hopefully break through it.
As we approached, there was still considerable revelry in Port Royale. We hoped the ruckus would cover the sound of the cannonballs crashing through the prison’s roof. As we ever-so-slowly drifted over the prison, the captain let the cannonballs fly.
They hit their target and accomplished the intended effect. The roof of their prison cell, being the weakest part, was easily demolished. We dropped a rope down, and Britpop and Stout both grabbed it and started to climb. We had tied knots into the rope so they could get a secure foothold on it. They merely had to hang on while we drifted back toward the village.
The noise of the crashing cannonballs through the prison roof did not go completely undetected. Guards soon unlocked the cell and, upon seeing the hole in the ceiling, looked up. Having never seen a hot-air balloon before, I am sure they were quite shocked. But after a momentary lapse into wonder, they regained their faculties and began firing their muskets at Britpop and Stout.
Fortunately, we had already started vanishing out of view, and their shots went wide of the mark. They made a futile attempt from the window also, but we managed a clean getaway.
To my relief, I managed to pilot us back to the village, where we made a safe landing just offshore. The crew quickly went about the business of packing up the balloon. Meanwhile, Stout and Britpop expressed their gratitude for being rescued.
Before dawn broke, we had said our goodbyes, boarded The Jellyfish and were out to sea. I asked the captain where we were headed.
“The navy will be after us now. We must leave the Caribbean. We sail for New France.”
