a snap--the handle of the file was left in my hand--the blade slid down over the sloping sill ere I could catch it, and I heard it drop with a tinkle in the street below. For a moment I hung there in despair. I was left with nothing but my naked hands, and what could they do against a stout iron stanchion and thick stone walls. I threw my whole weight upon the bar and sought to break it through; but strive as I might it would neither bend nor break. A second time I tried, but still without avail. Its sharp edges tore my hands so that they were wet with blood, but, hardly conscious of physical pain, I continued to struggle with it. My efforts were fruitless, and from sheer exhaustion I was compelled to desist. I hung for a moment on the edge of the sill, and then dropped down into the cell. My shaking legs refused to support me and I sank in a heap on the ground, bathed in perspiration, with panting breath and parched tongue. As I lay there I remembered how I often watched a bird beating its wings vainly against the bars of its cage, and a great pity for all wild things made captive rose within me. Picking myself up I groped my way round till I reached the door. I felt for the grille. Its bars were thin and rickety, but even if they were removed my arm alone would scarcely go through that tiny aperture. I began to examine the door, passing my hands carefully over it in the hope of finding the lock. The lock was upon the other side! Escape in this direction was impossible, so I fumbled my way round until I stood beneath the window once more. I climbed up to make another attack upon the stanchion. Still it resisted me, and, at last, for very weariness I was compelled to desist and drop down to the floor again. The town clock struck one. A few short hours--I could count them up on the fingers of one hand--and I should be discovered, and discovery meant death. Well, Mary, my Mary, was safe, and my sacrifice was a very little price to pay for that. I had held her in my arms; I was content to die. As I sat in the dark, memory after memory of the things that had befallen me chased each other through my brain. Some were memories of unspeakable happiness, others were memories touched by pain, but even those of pain were made fragrant by the knowledge that my loved one was free. In Hector’s keeping she would be safe from harm. Hector--warm-hearted, beloved adventurer--I could trust her to him. Once again the silence was broken as the town clock pealed out the hour of two. As its last note was dying I heard a muffled thud above me. I looked up quickly, but could see nothing except the faint beam of light which came through the window, blocked by that tantalising bar. What had the sound been? Was it some phantasm of my disordered brain? My senses were alert again, and I dragged myself once more up to the window. I peered out. Across the street I could see the roofs of the houses, but of the street itself I could catch no glimpse.