home. Then I'll get the keys to your cells,--never shall it be
said of Despard D'Auvigny that he deserted his friends in
misfortune! A regular jail-delivery,--what? The destruction of
the Bastille was nothing to this! And we'll carry Eb's head on a
pike."

"What!" exclaimed Mr. Daddles, "I never thought of that! Do you
suppose the keys to our cells are upstairs? I thought you were the
only one to get anything by this,--I was resolving always to carry
a banjo with me."

"Why, I guess they'll be upstairs,--I can't for the life of me see
why this was left down here. But I don't care,--I've no fault to
find with the arrangement. Now, we'll have to wait awhile."

We all sat down and waited for about ten minutes. Then the banjo-
man, saying "the hour has came!" opened his door again, and stole
softly upstairs. Half way up he turned and came back for a match.
Mr. Daddles gave him one, and he vanished with it. He was gone a
long while, and we began to be in despair, thinking that he
couldn't find the keys, or perhaps that he had gone away without
troubling himself any more about us.

At last however, we heard him once more on the stairs. He came
down, on tip-toe, holding up two keys. He was smiling gleefully.

"They were in Eb's desk and all tagged and numbered."

In a moment or two we were all out in the corridor. Our new friend
locked all the cell doors, and hung up his key on its hook.