The toilsome journey occupied twenty-four days and ended at a depot outside the _bagne_, where a sort of quarantine was performed. The prisoners were bathed two and two, put in the crimson uniform and rested for three days. No great vigilance was shown here, and it was easy to get out and over the outer wall. Vidocq had been meditating escape, and prepared for it by obtaining private clothes, a shirt, trousers, and neckerchief, which he concealed in the centre of an enormous loaf of ration bread. Having secured a steel chisel, negligently left within his reach, he cut a hole through the wall of his chamber, while a friendly comrade relieved him of his irons. He gained the yard and the boundary wall, which he surmounted with the aid of a pole, which was too heavy to be lifted on top and used for the descent. At last his only chance was to jump down, and in doing this he injured his ankles seriously, and could only drag himself to an adjoining bush, where he lay for hours, hoping the pain would abate and he might go on. But his feet swelled prodigiously, and he was obliged to surrender himself. Three weeks were now spent in hospital, and a charitable Sister of Mercy who nursed him gained him forgiveness from the commandant. Vidocq was still bent on escape. An obstacle to his plan existed in his chain companion, of whose discretion he was afraid. The man was still young, but already half an idiot from misery and brutal treatment. It was the rule to blame the remaining half of a couple, when the other had got away, and Vidocq knew this man, to avoid punishment, would betray the projected escape. It was necessary to be coupled afresh, and Vidocq, feigning sickness, was laid by for a few days, and then given another partner, who had no fears and was full of good-will. He strongly advised the would-be fugitive to make his move at once, before the sergeants had come to know his face. He helped Vidocq, who was in funds, to buy a disguise, a suit of sailor’s clothing, which was put on the morning of the third attempt, underneath his convict’s frock, and was undetected as the gang passed out of the gate to labor at dawn. His fetters, which he had sawn through, only hung by threads, but these also escaped notice; and on reaching the basin where the works were in progress, Vidocq slipped aside behind a pile of planks, where he made a rapid change, and walked off towards the wicket gate, giving upon the town. Altogether ignorant of the proper way, after threading many intricate streets and turning continually right and left, he luckily reached the main gate of the city, where a veteran guard was posted, who had the credit of being able to tell a convict at a look, and penetrate any disguise. A telltale hang of one leg, that to which the chain has been fastened, is an unfailing sign, but Vidocq had not been coupled long enough to show this. He played his part very coolly. He was carrying a jug of buttermilk, bought on purpose, and placing