The ward into which Jack was endeavouring to break was called the Red
Room, from the circumstance of its walls having once been painted
in that colour; all traces of which had, however, long since
disappeared. Like the Castle, which it resembled in all respects
except that it was destitute even of a barrack-bedstead, the Red Room
was reserved for state-prisoners, and had not been occupied since the
year 1716, when the jail, as has before been mentioned, was crowded
by the Preston rebels.
Having made a hole in the wall sufficiently large to pass through,
Jack first tossed the bar into the room and then crept after it. As
soon as he had gained his feet, he glanced round the bare blank
walls of the cell, and, oppressed by the musty, close atmosphere,
exclaimed, “I'll let a little fresh air into this dungeon. They say
it hasn't been opened for eight years--but I won't be eight years in
getting out of it.”
In stepping across the room, some sharp point in the floor pierced
his foot, and stooping to examine it, he found that the wound had
been inflicted by a long rusty nail, which projected from the boards.
Totally disregarding the pain, he picked up the nail, and reserved it
for future use. Nor was he long in making it available.
On examining the door, he found it secured by a large rusty lock,
which he endeavoured to pick with the nail he had just acquired;
but all his efforts proving ineffectual, he removed the plate that
covered it with the bar, and with his fingers contrived to draw back
the bolt.
Opening the door he then stepped into a dark narrow passage leading,
as he was well aware, to the chapel. On the left there were doors
communicating with the King's Bench Ward and the Stone Ward, two
large holds on the Master Debtors' side. But Jack was too well versed
in the geography of the place to attempt either of them. Indeed,
if he had been ignorant of it, the sound of voices which he could
faintly distinguish, would have served as a caution to him.
[Illustration: 183]
Hurrying on, his progress was soon checked by a strong door, several
inches in thickness, and nearly as wide as the passage. Running his
hand carefully over it in search of the lock, he perceived to his
dismay that it was fastened on the other side. After several vain
attempts to burst it open, he resolved, as a last alternative, to
break through the wall in the part nearest to the lock. This was
a much more serious task than he anticipated. The wall was of
considerable thickness, and built altogether of stone; and the noise
he was compelled to make in using the heavy bar, which brought sparks
with every splinter he struck off, was so great, that he feared
it must be heard by the prisoners on the Debtors' side. Heedless,
however, of the consequences, he pursued his task.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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