ned to walk out of it;
and as for their bars, I reckon them at about an hour's work. I never
travel without my little friends;"--and Collins, taking off his old hat,
removed the lining, and produced a variety of small saws made from
watch-springs, files, and other instruments. "Then," continued he, "with
these, and this piece of tallow stuck outside my hat, I will be through
those bars in no time. French iron ar'n't worth a d--n, and the sentry
sha'n't hear me if he lolls against them; although it may be just as
well if Thompson tips us a stave, as then we may work the faster."

"I say, Bill," observed Hillson, "who is your friend?"

"I don't know--he may be the governor; but this I do know, for the
honour of freemasonry, we may trust him and all like him; so just mind
your own business, Tom."

"He said he would be here at dark," observed Newton.

"Yes,--I must prepare--go to the grating, some of you, that they may not
look in upon me."

This unexpected prospect of deliverance created an anxious joy in the
breasts of the prisoners; the day appeared interminable. At last, the
shades of night set in, and a clouded sky with mizzling rain raised
their hopes. The square in front of the prison was deserted, and the
sentinel crouched close against the door, which partially protected him
from the weather. In a few minutes a person was heard in conversation
with the sentinel. "He must be coming now," observed Collins in a low
tone; "that must be one of his assistants who is taking off the
attention of the _gens d'arme_."

"Make no noise," said a voice in a whisper, at the outside of the bars.

"I am here," replied Collins, softly.

"How can you get out of the prison?"

"Get the sentry out of the way when we leave off singing; the bars will
then be removed."

"Everything is prepared outside. When you get out, keep close under the
wall to the right. I shall be at the corner, if I am not here."

The freemason then retired from the grating.

"Now, Thompson, not too loud, there's no occasion for it; two of us can
work."

Thompson commenced his song; Newton took a small saw from Collins, who
directed him how to use it. The iron bars of the prison yielded like wood
to the fine-tempered instruments which Collins employed. In an hour and a
half three of the bars were removed without noise, and the aperture was
wide enough for their escape. The singing of Thompson, whose voice was
tolerably good, and ear very correct, had