We were marched back to our prison to spend the few hours that remained of our lives; and on the way our attention was directed by a friendly guard to a great gallows with accommodation on it for at least ten persons side by side. I only hoped, if it came to that, I might be in the first batch. This time I was placed in a different cell from that I had occupied the night before. It was above ground, and lit by a larger window. Indeed, it was not intended to be used as a cell at all; but, as my jailer explained in a jocular way, he had so many guests that day that he was obliged to accommodate some of them in the soldiers' quarters, and begged monsieur (that was I) would accept his excuses for not having made more elaborate preparations for his reception. In half-an-hour or so, he said, there would be more room. If monsieur could kindly wait till then, he should have an apartment suited to his dignity. "Monsieur is too good," said I in the politest French I could muster, thinking it wise to humour him; "but I should take it as a favour to be allowed to give up my apartment." "By no means," said the other, slapping me on the back; "we cannot spare your company a moment before the time.--Meanwhile, make yourself at home, and receive the assurance of my profound esteem." "There is one favour I would beg, if I might be so bold," said I. "In the short time left me I would like to write a letter to a friend." "If it is a lady friend," said the Frenchman with a wink, "it might be allowed--provided she is fair, and I may have the honour of delivering it." "She is fair," said I, trying hard to keep up the jest; "and I will gladly trust you with what I write to her." The fellow was, after all, of the good-natured kind, and I think meant no harm by his jests. At any rate, after some demur, he agreed to loose my handcuffs for half-an-hour while I wrote; and having fetched me in pen and paper, left me to myself, double locking the door after him. This was what I wanted. I waited till his footsteps died down the passage, and then crept silently to the window. It was above my reach, but by jumping I could just catch the bars and haul myself up. Not being intended as a dungeon, the bars were loosely fixed, and I found that it would be possible to remove one, and so allow room through which to squeeze. The casement itself was of the ordinary kind, and opened outwards with a simple catch-fastener. Outside was a courtyard at the back of the guard-house, in which were scattered sundry brooms and buckets, and a pile of rubbish in one corner. By mounting this I calculated I could get my hands to the top of the outer wall; and once over that, my chance was come. I returned to my table and pretended to be occupied with writing, while really I was listening with all my ears for any sound that might show on which side of the prison the guard was set.