I never had any
principle in me worthy of the name. I have been drifting, up to this
time, before the winds of caprice and selfish inclination. (A long
pause here.) Well, it just comes to this, that whatever happens I must
submit with a good grace--at least, as good grace as I can--and hope
that an opportunity to escape may occur before long. I have made up my
mind to do it--and when I once make up my mind, I--"

He paused once more at this point, and the pause was so long that he
turned it into a full stop by laying his head on the block of wood which
formed his pillow and going to sleep.

It will be seen from the above candid remarks that our hero was not
quite as confident of his power of will as he used to be,--also, that he
was learning a few useful facts in the school of adversity.

One evening, after a harder day than usual, Miles was conducted to the
prison in which he and his companions had been confined on the day of
their arrival.

Looking round the cell, he observed, on becoming accustomed to the dim
light, that only one other prisoner was there. He was lying on the bare
ground in a corner, coiled up like a dog, and with his face to the wall.
Relieved to find that he was not to be altogether alone, Miles sat down
with his back against the opposite wall, and awaited the waking of his
companion with some interest, for although his face was not visible, and
his body was clothed in a sort of sacking, his neck and lower limbs
showed that he was a white man. But the sleeper did not seem inclined
to waken just then. On the contrary, he began, ere long, to snore
heavily.

Miles gradually fell into a train of thought that seemed to bring back
reminiscences of a vague, indefinable sort. Then he suddenly became
aware that the snore of the snorer was not unfamiliar. He was on the
point of rising to investigate this when the sleeper awoke with a start,
sat bolt upright with a look of owlish gravity, and presented the
features of Jack Molloy.

"Miles, my lad!" cried Jack, springing up to greet his friend warmly, "I
thought you was dead."

"And, Jack, my dear friend," returned Miles, "I thought--at least I
feared--that you must have been tortured to death."

"An' you wasn't far wrong, my boy. Stand close to me, and look me
straight in the eyes. D'ee think I'm any taller?"

"Not much--at least, not to my perception. Why?"

"I wonder at that, now," said Molloy, "for I've bin hanged three times,
an' s