So saying, he again lay down, and was speedily asleep. When he woke, he
felt sure that he had not exceeded the time he had given himself. He
listened intently. He could hear a low, confused sound, which he knew was
made by horses feeding, but he could hear no human voices. He drank the
rest of the water in the mug, then he turned up the bucket, placed it
under the opening, and mounted on it.

His first spring failed to reach the sill, and he stood for a few
minutes, before making another attempt. He knew that it was a matter of
life or death, for he had no doubt whatever that, even if he gave the
required information, which he was determined not to do, however much he
might suffer, he would be shot afterwards. He braced himself to the
utmost, took a long breath, and then sprang. His fingers caught on the
ledge of stonework, and, with a desperate effort, he drew himself up,
aided by his feet. He had, before making the attempt, removed his boots,
partly to avoid the scraping noise which these would make, partly to
enable him the better to avail himself of the inequalities in the
stonework.

It was a desperate struggle; and when he got his shoulders in the
opening, which was just wide enough to admit them, he lay for three or
four minutes, panting heavily, with the perspiration streaming down his
face. The aperture was too small to admit of his turning in any way, and
there was nothing for it, as he knew, but to drop head foremost.

Gradually, he drew himself through the opening, lowering himself as much
as he could by holding on to the upper edge by his feet. Then, stretching
out his arms to save himself, he let go. Fortunately, the ground was
soft, for a garden adjoined the stable; but the shock was a heavy one,