They made a further careful examination of the cell; and this time, by dint of patient search, they located the aperture through which their food was thrust every day. It was constructed with much skill, and only by very close inspection could they make out the small joints indicating the position of the trap. Before they found it, some vague idea had formed itself in their minds of watching for the time when it should be opened to pass in their meals, and endeavouring to scramble through before it was closed again. It was a hare-brained scheme, and would never have suggested itself were it not for the fact that their minds had been persistently dwelling upon the chances of escape, and had become so dulled by long confinement that they were not now so clear as they had been in happier times. A second glance served to prove to them the utter futility of any attempt at escape by that means, as the size of the opening was insufficient to permit the passage of their bodies. This discovery came as a severe disappointment to them, and they remained for some considerable time sitting on their respective stone stools, a prey to black despair and utter hopelessness. They were aroused from their dismal reverie by hearing a stealthy footstep approaching the door. It stopped outside, and, by leaning their heads against the wood-work, and listening intently, they heard a slight creaking sound, as of wood against wood, which, to their now alert senses, indicated that the watcher was gently pushing back the slide which concealed the spy-hole. There was then a pause, and the lads looked across at one another and could not forbear a smile, even in their state of misery and suspense, at the idea of the spy's astonishment and disappointment at finding all dark when he expected to be able to see into the cell. Presently there ensued a slight scratching, and they knew that the spy was attempting to remove the obstruction. Their plug, however, answered its purpose well, and showed no signs of budging. Then the scratching noise began afresh, and somewhat more loudly, as the man became impatient of the delay, and dispensed with caution. After several ineffectual efforts on the spy's part the noise ceased, and the stealthy footsteps were heard receding in the distance. "Well, Roger," said Harry, when the sound of the spy's footsteps had ceased, "we got the better of him that time; did we not?" "Ay," responded Roger gloomily; "but we must not expect that the matter will rest there. They will be certain to return and drill that hole out again, or make a fresh one, and we are sure to be punished in some way for what we have done--either by starvation or torture. I am by no means sure that we were wise in stopping up that spy-hole, or that by doing so we have served any good purpose."