Round the centre of the arrow a piece of greased silk was wrapped. Charlie took this off, and found beneath it a piece of paper, on which was written in Hindostanee: "If you have a bar loosed, pull the string and haul up a rope. If not, throw the arrow down. I will come again, tomorrow night." Tim had by this time joined Charlie, and they speedily began to pull in the string. Presently a thicker string came up into their hands. They continued to pull, and soon the end of a stout rope, in which knots were tied every two feet, came up to them. They fastened this to one of the bars, and then took hold of that which they had loosened; and, putting their feet against the wall, exerted themselves to the utmost. The iron was tougher than they had expected, but they were striving for liberty and, with desperate exertions, they bent it inwards until, at last, there was room enough for them to creep through. "Can you swim, Tim?" "Not a stroke, yer honor. Shure you should know that, when you fished me out of the water." "Very well, Tim. As I kept you up then, 'twill be easy enough for me, now, to take you across the moat. I will go first, and when I get into the water, will keep hold of the rope till you come down. Take off your boots, for they would be heard scraping against the wall. Be sure you make as little noise as possible, and lower yourself quietly into the water." Charlie then removed his own boots, squeezed himself through the bars and, grasping the rope tightly, began to descend. He found the knots of immense assistance, for had it not been for them, unaccustomed as he was to the work, he would have been unable to prevent himself from sliding down too rapidly. The window was fully sixty feet above the moat, and he was very thankful when, at last, he felt the water touch his feet. Lowering himself quietly into it, he shook the rope, to let Tim know that he could begin his descent. Before Tim was halfway down, Charlie could hear his hard breathing, and muttered ejaculations to himself: "Shure I'll never get to the bottom at all, my arms are fairly breaking. I shall squash Mr. Charles, if I fall on him." "Hold your tongue, Tim," Charlie said in a loud whisper. Tim was silent, but the panting and puffing increased, and Charlie swam a stroke or two away, expecting every moment that Tim would fall. The Irishman, however, held on; but let himself into the water with a splash, which aroused the attention of the sentry above, who instantly challenged. Tim and Charlie remained perfectly quiet. Again the sentry challenged. Then there was a long silence. The sentry probably was unwilling to rouse the place by a false alarm, and the splash might have been caused by the fall of a piece of decayed stone from the face of the wall. "Tim, you clumsy fellow," whispered Charlie, "you nearly spoiled all."