'll be out o' here. Now, you mark my word."

"How?" I inquired.

"Jest a leetle job o' slidin' downhill," he said. "There's a big
drain-pipe goes under this cell--t' the river, prob'ly. He says
it's bigger 'n a barrel."

We saved our candle that day, and walked up and down, from wall to
wall, for exercise. Our hopes were high when we heard footsteps,
but they fell suddenly, for, as we listened, we could hear the
tramp of a squad of men. They came to our cell, and took us
upstairs, blind-folded as before, to a bath-room, where the
uniforms, discarded the day of our capture, were waiting for us,
newly pressed. Our bath over, they directed us to put them on.
They gave us new hats, for our own had been lost the night of the
wreck, covered our eyes, and led us through many doors and alleys
into the open air. It was dark, I knew, for as we entered a
carriage I could see dimly the glow of a lantern hanging over the
wheel. The carriage went away swiftly on a level road. We sat
knee to knee, with two men facing us, and not a word was spoken.
We could hear hoofs falling, the rattle of bit and rein, the creak
of saddle-leather on each side of us. We must have gone a long
journey when the carriage halted. They pulled us out roughly and
led us up three steps and across a deep veranda. A bell rang, a
door swung open, a flood of light fell on us, filtering to our
eyes. Entering, we could feel a carpet under us, and took a dozen
paces or more before they bade us halt. We heard only the
low-spoken order and the soft tread of our feet. There was a dead
silence when they removed our fetters and unbound our eyes. We