The next day the commandant, to whom the letter had been entrusted, jocularly asked Allen if he thought they were fools in England, and told him the letter had been sent to Lord North. That its effects were such as Allen had predicted, was soon shown, but not until after Dick, suddenly presented with an opportunity, had severed his fortunes from those of his fellow prisoners in Pendennis Castle. Some of Allen's visitors came fifty miles to see him. One afternoon, while he was on the parade-ground, discoursing with several gentlemen and ladies, and accompanied by Dick, a horse took fright just outside the outer gateway, at which its rider, who had journeyed far to behold the famous prisoner, was about to dismount. The scared animal, after a few wild turns and plunges, galloped madly through the open gateway and straight for the group surrounding Allen. The people fell back in confusion, women shrieking, men taken by surprise; visitors, prisoners, and guards huddled into one disorderly mass. The horse threw its rider, and reared before the crowd, with fiery eyes and snorting nostrils. Suddenly a man was seen to rush out from the group, seize the horse's bridle with both hands together, bring the animal to its fore-knees, place both hands on the pommel of the saddle, leap astride the horse, and make it rear again on its hind legs. As if resolved to get the beast under control at any effort, this volunteer horse-tamer brought its head sharply around to face the gate, towards which it bolted with such sudden speed that the two guards there stood back in terror. Once out of the gate, the animal headed for Falmouth at a furious gallop. The panic-stricken crowd on the parade-ground now breathed again, and separated into its three elements,--spectators, guards, and prisoner,--for, lo and behold, there remained now but one of the two prisoners! On the ground lay the fallen cap of the other, who had lost it in his struggle with the horse, and who, now being borne swiftly towards Falmouth, was none other than Dick Wetheral. There was some question, with Lieutenant Hamilton and his officers, as to whether the prisoner intended to escape or merely to conquer the frightened horse. Hence some time elapsed before finally the alarm-gun was fired and a searching party sent out. Meanwhile, Dick Wetheral, who could never afterward recall at exactly what moment his impulse to stop the horse had turned into the idea of making a dash for liberty, allowed the horse to run away with him at its best speed. While rapidly approaching Falmouth, he did a thing that he had often heard old Tom describe as having been done by certain mountebanks, and which, as his hands were comparatively small, he had practised with success in prison,--he folded each hand lengthwise, and, with some painful scraping of skin at his thumb-joints, worked off his handcuffs, which he then tossed into a pool of water at the roadside.