prison slam heavily into
place and the key turn in the lock, not twenty-five yards from where
they lay.

As soon as the gate was closed, Geoffrey rose and cautiously looked all
round. Not a living thing was in sight. He knew that they had a clear
hour's start, and he gave the word:

"Now, friends, follow me."

They crossed the wall, and ran straight for the new tool-shed. Geoffrey
forgot that his speed was much greater than that of the older men.
Featherstone kept up; but the Duke lagged, and Mr. Sydney, who ran
lamely, was left far behind.

When the two latter came up to the tool-house they met Geoffrey and
Featherstone shouldering a long new plank, and making for the first
canal at the foot of the hill.

"Follow us," they said; and, though awkwardly burdened, they far
outstripped the Duke, while poor Sydney's pace grew slower and slower.

The plank was down and waiting for them when they came to the canal.
They crossed, and Geoffrey and Featherstone pulled in the plank and set
off for the next. There were nine canals to be bridged in this way.

The slowness of Sydney caused the loss of many precious minutes. At
every trench they had to wait for the poor old fellow. When they came to
the seventh canal, he stood on the prison side when all had crossed, and
refused to move.

"God speed you, my dear friends," he said, with quivering voice. "I
cannot go any farther. You will all be lost if I attempt it. I cannot
run any more--nor could I even walk the distance you have to go."

"Oh, Sydney, come!" cried Geoffrey, with painful impatience.

"Dear Sydney, do not leave us," pleaded the Duke.

But Sydney did not move; he only waved a good-by with his hand. He could
not speak.

Without a word, Featherstone recrossed, seized Sydney in his arms, and
carried him bodily over. Geoffrey pulled in the plank alone, and started
for the eighth canal.

Mr. Sydney did not speak; and now he seemed even to gain new strength
and speed. He kept up bravely, and even crossed the next canal ahead of
the Duke. There now remained but one more.

"Fifty minutes gone," said Geoffrey in a low voice as Featherstone ran
over the plank. "That bell rings at ten minutes to six."

"Bravo, Duke!" cried Featherstone, as the old man stepped from the
plank. "Come, Sydney."

But Sydney did not come. Instead, when he came up to the canal, he bent
down, seized the plank, and pitched it into the deep trench which ran
rapidly and carried it off t