o come to an end of this part of my story, after several weeks'
work at the rubble we once more encountered stone. Before attacking
this, we waited for a night or two. We no longer had any fear of
the slabs of the battlement falling; the cement was clearly strong
enough to bear the weight of the passing sentry; but I had some
apprehension that as he tramped along the man might discover the
hollowness below him by the ringing of his feet on the stones. But
two nights sufficed to banish this fear also, and then we started
eagerly on the last portion of our task.

The flight of time passes almost unnoticed when the moments are
well filled. Winter had given place to spring, and spring was now
merging into summer. We had no almanac, and kept no account of the
days; it was by the lengthening daylight and shortening darkness
and the new warmth in the air that we knew summer was at hand. The
long nights of winter would perhaps have been more favorable to our
escape, but, on the other hand, we should suffer more from
exposure, and moreover, I fancy no man is ever so brave in cold
weather as in warm. We prisoners, at any rate, worked now with more
zest than ever, heartened by the knowledge that if we did win to
freedom, we should find ourselves in a pleasant, sunny world.

One night when Runnles and the bosun were at work, the chisel of
the former met with no further obstacle. Enlarging the hole he had
made, he set his eye to it, and whispered to the bosun to blow out
the candle. Then he crawled back into the room and told me in his
quiet way that he had seen the stars. Before morning the cement
round a stone somewhat larger than the one we first removed had
been scraped away, or pushed out into the moat, and we knew that
when we had hauled the stone back through the tunnel into the room
we should have made a hole large enough for the biggest of us to
pass through.

My fears for the success of our enterprise were never greater than
at this moment when the way seemed open. The men were in so wild a
state of excitement that I was consumed with anxiety lest their
demeanor should arouse suspicion among our guardians. Before I went
down to the courtyard I spoke to them very earnestly, begging them
to keep a watch on themselves, and not betray by word, look or sign
that anything had happened to break the monotony of our life.

They obeyed my injunctions almost too well, for a more silent,
morose, hangdog set of fellows could never