Satisfied so far, Tom next turned to Lionel, who by this time had duly inducted himself into Creede’s garments. Here, also, the general effect was satisfactory. One reason why Tom’s choice had fallen on Creede was because he and Lionel were both about the same height and build. Tom gave a few final artistic touches to the tout ensemble—arranging the frayed old black necktie, and the limp, dirty collar, after Creede’s own slovenly fashion—and finishing by putting into Lionel’s reluctant hands the law-clerk’s greasy and much-worn hat. “Years ago,” said Tom, “when I amused myself with private theatricals, I little thought that my talent for ‘making up’ would ever be brought into such valuable requisition. You would almost deceive Hoskyns himself if you were to walk into his office, especially by gaslight.” “And you would quite deceive him,” said Lionel. “He would take you for his ‘double,’ and think his time was nearly come.” “There is one thing still to do,” said Tom. “Creede’s walk is rather a peculiar one. Now watch me, and try whether you can imitate it.” In about three minutes Lionel was tolerably perfect. “You know what kind of a voice Creede has,” said Tom. “Should you be accosted by any of the warders as we go out, you must do your best to imitate it. And now I think we are ready for a start.” He crossed over to the bed, to take another look at the unconscious Creede. He felt his pulse carefully, and then lifted up one of his eyelids and examined the pupil underneath. “Let us hope that you have not given him an overdose of the narcotic,” said Lionel. “No fear of that,” answered Tom. “Remember that my father was a doctor, and that I have some knowledge of drugs. I have made this man my study for weeks. If my calculations are correct, he will sleep for about three hours, not longer—and won’t there be a hullabaloo when he awakes!” “But assuming that we get safely out of the prison—what then? Where am I to go? How am I to get rid of this cursed disguise?” said Lionel. “You are to go home to the wife of your bosom. Everything has been thought of—everything provided for your safety. And now for the attempt. Don’t forget that you are Jabez Creede. Take the bag and follow me at a respectful distance. Pull your hat over your brows and turn up the collar of your overcoat, and, above all things, don’t seem to be in a hurry.” Tom gave a final glance round the cell to see that everything was in order, turned the gas partially down, and then tapped at the door. A warder came in answer to the summons, and unlocked the door. Tom and Lionel stepped out into the corridor. The warder gave a glance into the cell, and saw, as he thought, his prisoner lying on his pallet with his face turned to the wall, as he had seen him lying many a time before. “Tired out, poor fellow,” whispered Tom in the warder’s ear as the latter proceeded to relock the door. “But I’ve brought him good news, and I warrant he’ll sleep as sound as a top to-night.’