“He did so—so far as he knew. But this is an immense building; and you forget—you were not brought here at first—there is a residence, as they call it, detached. Davidson’s duties never take him there, unless specially sent for.” “Well, well; let me escape, that is all.” “You have looked out of window; you have seen the courtyard—the wall. You know that beyond the wall is the canal: all that is plain in your mind?” “It is. First, we must get across the courtyard, then we must climb the wall, then descend and swim the canal.” “Ah,” said Fulk, “I cannot swim.” “I can,” said Aymer; “I learnt in the sea.” He remembered his few bright months of wandering before he had met Violet. “I am glad of it, though I had provided for that. The bladders that would have supported you, can carry our dry clothes to change.” “The bladders—have you got some to float you?” “I have; but, first of all, the courtyard and the wall. We must not descend into the courtyard, because at one end there is a window—Theodore’s window—and he is here now; at the other it opens on the grounds, and warders are sometimes about. It is the wall we must attack.” “All we want now is a rope and a grapnel.” “I have a rope and a grapnel. Where? In my bed. What rope? Bell-rope partly, partly bed cording. How did I get it? By being mad. By picking everything to pieces with my fingers, as mad people will. They humoured me, and I secreted half the pieces while they carelessly removed the other. I have a long, strong rope; long enough to go up the wall and down the other side. I have also a grapnel.” “That is fortunate. How did you make a grapnel?” “I did not make it; the warder brought it to me. You wonder. But you noticed the crenelated wall: that is the secret. My grapnel is simply a very long, strong ruler, such as are used in keeping ledgers, and in some mechanical drawing; I had it ostensibly for drawing. This ruler must be tied across the rope; when the rope is flung over the wall, the ruler will catch across the crenelation. There is the grapnel. The rope at its lower end will be fastened to the upright pillar, or whatever the technical name may be, which divides my window into two. There’s the ladder.” “And the swimming bladders?” “I made them out of an old Macintosh, which I also tore up: I sewed them together. Mad people have whims: one of mine was to mend my own clothes; so I got needles and thread. They are also in my bed. They have simply to be inflated with air; they have cords to fasten to the body.” “How clever! I should never have thought of such things. But why did you not escape before I came? You had all the materials required.”