drain in the mine which had once carried off water, but when the
mine became a prison it was stopped up with stone and mortar,
except for a small opening where the water still ran off between
iron bars. The outlet of this drain was far down on the hillside
beyond the sight of the guards. The prisoner, Henry Wooster, who
worked in the nail-shop, contrived to hide some bits of iron nail
rods in his clothes and carry them back with him into the mine.
He learned, with their help, to take off his fetters at night.
Then, with the same bits of iron, he worked at the bars of the
drain until, little by little, he loosened some of them and took
them out so that he could crawl through into the drain. But the
drain was too narrow in some places to let him pass and he was
obliged to loosen and remove some of its stones. This was a long
and hard task, but he was not easily discouraged. Each night he
took off his clothed and his fetters, crawled into the drain, and
worked until morning. Then he replaced the iron bars, dressed,
put on his fetters, and was ready when the guards came down to go
up to the shops with the rest of the prisoners. By and by he got
nearly to the end of the drain. Then one night, while he was down
there, a stone, which he had accidentally loosened, fell behind
him and blocked his way back. He could not turn to reach the
stone with his hands, for the drain was too narrow, he could not
stir it with his feet, and he dared not cry out for help; time
passed, and it was almost morning; he would be called and missed,
and he shuddered to think of the consequences. At last, as he was
about to give up in despair, he felt the stone move just a
little. Bracing himself against the sides of the drain, he pushed
it vigorously with his feet. Slowly, inch by inch, it rolled back
until it fell into a slight depression so that he could pass over
it. Bleeding and exhausted, he got to his bunk and into his