“Sure I’ve thought of nothing else for three months.  The trees can’t go naked all the year; the brook can’t keep ice on it in summer; the swan sings before it dies; the grasshopper whirrs loudest when its grave is ready.  Why shouldn’t I have me joke when I’ve had nothing but hard knocks, loneliness, and the company of the prison for half the year?”

“Poor fellow!” Rosa murmured in Dick’s ear, who had not trusted himself in sight of his old comrade.  “I don’t believe he’s a bad man; I don’t believe he came to our house.  Oh! pray, Mr. Jack, do talk with him.  Encourage him to be frank, and we will get Mr. Davis to pardon him.”

“Pardon, is it, me dear?  Sure there’s no pardon could be as sweet as your honest e’en—­God be good to ye!—­an’ if I were Peter after the third denial of me Maker, your sweet lips would drag the truth from me!  What is it you would have me tell?”

“The captain, here, desires me to talk with you.  He thinks that perhaps I can convince you of the wiser course to follow,” Jack said, with a meaning light in his eye.

“Oh, if that’s what’s wanted, I will listen to you ’till yer arms give out, as Judy McMoyne said, when Teddy tould his love, I promise, in advance, to do what you advise.”

“I knew you would,” Jack said, approvingly.—­“Now, captain, if you can give me five minutes—­”

The captain beckoned the guard, whispered a moment, and then said, exultingly: 

“The guard will stand in the passage until you have finished with the prisoner.  We shall await you in the porch.”

“Now, Barney, I must be brief, and you must not lose a syllable I say.  Here, sit on the cot, so that I may slip this bayonet under the blanket.  You can work through this wall with that.  You must do it to-night and to-morrow.  Be ready Thursday at daylight.  You will be met on the outside either by Dick or myself.  We have the route all arranged, and friends in many places to lull suspicion.”

“But I won’t stir a foot without Jones.  Do you know who he is?” Barney whispered, eying Jack curiously.

“No other than that he seems a very desperate devil-may-care fellow.  Who is he?”

“An agent and crony of Boone’s.”

“Good God!”

“It’s a long story I can’t tell it now, but if your plan takes him in, I’m ready, and will be on hand.”

“I have seen him, and have given him better tools than I have brought you for the work.”

“That’s all right.  I ask nothing better than the bayonet.  The other fellows that got out of Libby didn’t have nearly so good.”

“You know how I am fixed here.  I have grown tired of this sort of hostage life, and I am going North with you.  So, Barney, I beg of you to be careful, for other lives than your own are at stake.  I should be specially hateful to the authorities if I were retaken—­for the whole Southern people clamor to have an example made of the assassins of the President, as they call you.”