disobedience, but one of them had become mad, and was in chains; in
another cell, he said, there were two lawyers.

My suspicions quieted, I reasoned as follows:

I wish to regain my liberty at all hazards. My pike is an admirable
instrument, but I can make no use of it as my cell is sounded all over
(except the ceiling) every day. If I would escape, it is by the ceiling,
therefore, that way I must go, but to do that I must make a hole through
it, and that I cannot do from my side, for it would not be the work of a
day. I must have someone to help me; and not having much choice I had to
pick out the monk. He was thirty-eight, and though not rich in common
sense I judged that the love of liberty--the first need of man--would
give him sufficient courage to carry out any orders I might give. I must
begin by telling him my plan in its entirety, and then I shall have to
find a way to give him the bar. I had, then, two difficult problems
before me.

My first step was to ask him if he wished to be free, and if he were
disposed to hazard all in attempting his escape in my company. He replied
that his mate and he would do anything to break their chains, but, added
he, "it is of no use to break one's head against a stone wall." He filled
four pages with the impossibilities which presented themselves to his
feeble intellect, for the fellow saw no chance of success on any quarter.
I replied that I did not trouble myself with general difficulties, and
that in forming my plan I had only thought of special difficulties, which
I would find means to overcome, and I finished by giving him my word of
honour to set him free, if he would promise to carry out exactly whatever
orders I might give.