three strong doors.

"I know that, reverend father," I replied, "but we are not going to
escape by the doors. My plan is complete, and I will guarantee its
success. All I ask of you is to carry out my directions, and to make no
difficulties. Do you busy yourself to find out some way of getting my bar
without the knowledge of the gaoler. In the meanwhile, make him get you
about forty pictures of saints, large enough to cover all the walls of
your cell. Lawrence will suspect nothing, and they will do to conceal the
opening you are to make in the ceiling. To do this will be the work of
some days, and of mornings Lawrence will not see what you have done the
day before, as you will have covered it up with one of the pictures. If
you ask me why I do not undertake the work myself, I can only say that
the gaoler suspects me, and the objection will doubtless seem to you a
weighty one."

Although I had told him to think of a plan to get hold of the pike, I
thought of nothing else myself, and had a happy thought which I hastened
to put into execution. I told Lawrence to buy me a folio Bible, which had
been published recently; it was the Vulgate with the Septuagint. I hoped
to be able to put the pike in the back of the binding of this large
volume, and thus to convey it to the monk, but when I saw the book I
found the tool to be two inches longer.

My correspondent had written to tell me that his cell was covered with
pictures, and I had communicated him my idea about the Bible and the
difficulty presented by its want of length. Happy at being able to
display his genius, he rallied me on the poverty of my imagination,
telling me that I had only to send him the pike wrapped up in my fox-skin
cloak.

"Lawrence," said he, "had often talked about your cloak, and Count Asquin
would arouse no suspicion by asking to see it in order to buy one of the
same kind. All you have to do is to send it folded up. Lawrence would
never dream of unfolding it."

I, on the other hand, was sure that he would. In the first place, because
a cloak folded up is more troublesome to carry than when it is unfolded.
However, not to rebuff him and at the same time to shew him that I was
the wiser, I wrote that he had only to send for the cloak. The next day
Lawrence asked me for it, and I gave it folded up, but without the bar,
and in a quarter of an hour he brought it back to me, saying that the
gentleman had admired it very much.

The monk wrote me a do