from the prison. Two of the men were what you call skylarking, and
running one way while the child was running the other. One of them
knocked it down heavily. It was an accident, and if he had picked it
up and been sorry, there would have been an end of it; but instead of
that the brute burst into a loud laugh. By this time I was as fond of
the child as if it had been my own, and I rushed furiously at him and
knocked him down. As he sprang to his feet he drew a knife he used in
wood-carving and came at me. I caught the blow on my arm and closed
with him, and we fell together. The guard in the yard rushed up and
pulled us apart, and we both got a fortnight's close confinement for
fighting.

"The first time I came into the yard again and met the woman with her
child, the little one ran to me; but the woman, a little to my
surprise, said nothing. As she passed I lifted the child up, and after
giving me a hug and a kiss she said: 'Mammy gave me this to give to
you;' and she put a little note into my hand. I took the first
opportunity to read it in a quiet corner. It was as follows: 'Dear
Jacques--I saw how nobly you stood up for my Carrie the other day, and
how you got wounded in protecting her. You have always been good to
her. I have often thought I might help you to escape, but was afraid
to try. Now I will do so. It will not be easy, but I will manage it.
Do not be impatient; the child will give you another note when I have
quite arranged things. I shall not talk much to you in future, or else
when you have got away I may be suspected; so do not be surprised at
my seeming cold.'

"After that the woman only brought her child once a week or so to the
prison, and only gave me a nod as she passed through the yard. Upon
the third visit of the child it gave me a little packet containing two