o' it. But sure, yer honour,
so far the order hath bin all that we could wish, and if the rist o'
what the writer sez be as good as has been the furst, uh! sure we'll
have a good swim, and lave this damned place that gives wan the shivers
to be on the insoide o'."

"It shall be difficult to swim in our armour."

"Sure it's not far, yer honour."

"Then assist me to make haste, that no time may be lost. But first tie
up that scratch upon thy hand."

"Uh! sure, yer honour 'tis nothin'."

However, I bound my scarf about the hand of him I now loved so dearly,
and then he assisted me to arm.

We were soon ready to start on this perilous attempt for freedom, that
meant so much to me, if I should succeed, and such a calamity unto
myself and another which I loved better a thousand times than I did my
life, if I should fail.

I then went to the poor corpse upon the bed and detached the chain by
which the ring that held his keys was suspended from his belt. I then
crossed to the smoky lamp and re-read the letter with great care and
attention, that its contents might be fully engraven upon my memory. I
then carefully placed it within my gauntlet, and, warning Michael to
leave his hands bare, that he might use them freely in quieting the
soldier at the breach--in case we ever reached it--I cautiously
unlocked the door. Then I opened it for a sufficient space to allow my
head an exit, and fearfully I looked both ways along the corridor to
make sure that no one was about. The hall was clear. I opened the
door wider, and motioning Michael to follow, I stepped, as quietly as
mine armour would permit, into the hall. With the quietness of a thief
I re-locked the door and started on tip-toe down the passage. I had
taken but a few steps, however, when Michael's hand was laid upon mine
arm. I started, turned in fear, and then remembering Michael, I
blushed in the darkness at my foolish, girl-like action.

"Beg pardon, sor, but dount ye think 'twould be bitter if we was to
walk along as though we had the roight and didn't give a damn fer a
soul o' thim?" whispered my companion.

"Well thought on, Michael," I returned, and we strode along with the
apparent confidence of two keepers. Then Michael started whistling a
gay Irish tune. This was more than my o'er-strained and assumed
confidence could bear; so I placed my hand over his mouth and his
whistling came to an abrupt end.

Then down the stairs we went until we reac