rived of even his
pocket-knife, but he did have a few dollars of Spanish coinage, which he
stowed carefully in his trousers pocket. All the while his energy
endured despite his wasted form. Hope made a bridge for his weakness.

He let the line out of the window, and his delicate sense told him when
it struck against the ground. Six or eight feet were left in his hand,
and he tied the end firmly to the bar, knotting it again and again. Then
he slipped through the opening and the passage was so close that his
ears scraped as they went by. He hung for a few moments on the outside,
his feet on the stone sill and his hands clasping the iron bar. He felt
sheer and absolute terror. The spires of the cathedral were invisible
and only a few far lights showed dimly. It seemed to him that he was
suspended over a bottomless pit, and he shivered from head to foot.

But he recalled his courage. Such a black night was best suited to his
task. The shivering ceased. Hope ruled once more. He knelt on the stone
sill, and, grasping his crude rope with both hands, let himself down
from the window. It required almost superhuman exertion to keep himself
from dropping sheer away, and the rope burned his palms. But he held on,
knowing that he must hold, and the stone wall felt cold to him, as he
lay against it, and slid slowly down.

Perhaps his strength, which was more of the mind than of the body,
partly gave way under such a severe strain, but he felt pains shooting
through his arms, shoulders and chest. His most vivid recollections of
the descent were the coldness of the wall against which he lay and the
far tinkle of a mandolin which came to him with annoying distinctness.
The frequent knots where he had tied the strips together were a help,
and whenever he came to one he let his hands rest upon it a moment or
two lest he slide down too rapidly.

He had been descending, it seemed to him, fully an hour, and he must
have come down a mile, when he heard the rattle of a saber. It was so
distinct and so near that it could not be imagination. He looked in the
direction of the sound and saw two dark figures in the street. As he
stared the two figures shaped themselves into two Mexican officers.
Truth, not fancy, told him also that they were not moving. They had seen
him escaping and they would come for him! He pressed his body hard
against the stone wall, and with his hands resting upon one of the knots
clung desperately to the rope. He was ha