When I had been about a month in prison the assizes were held, but my case was not brought forward, and I was suffered to stand over six months longer.

I noticed a change in my jailer’s behaviour at this time.  He offered to make better provision for my comfort, and as I had no doubt he was instigated by Mr. Falkland, I answered that he might tell his employer I would accept no favours from a man that held a halter about my neck.  Then the idea of an escape occurred to me, and as I had some proficiency in carpentry, I decided to obtain tools by proposing to make some chairs for the jailer.  My offer was accepted, and I gradually accumulated tools of various sorts—­gimlets, chisels, etc.

In the middle of the night, my plans being now thoroughly digested, I set about making my escape.  I had to get the first door from its hinges, and though this was attended with considerable difficulty, I was successful.  The second door being fastened on the inside, all I had to do was to push back the bolts and unscrew the box of the lock.

Thus far I had proceeded with the happiest success; but close on the other side there was a kennel with a large mastiff dog, of which I had not the smallest previous knowledge.  However, I managed to soothe the animal, and go to the wall.  Before I had gained half the ascent, a voice at the garden door cried out, “Halloa!  Who is there?” At this the dog began to bark violently, and a second man came out.  Alarmed at my situation, I descended on the other side too quickly, and in my fall nearly dislocated my ankle.

In the meantime, the two warders came through a door in the wall, of which I had not been aware, and were at the place where I had descended, in no time.  The pain in my ankle was so intense that I could scarcely stand, and I suffered myself to be retaken.

The condition in which I was now placed was totally different from that which had preceded this attempt.  I was chained all day in my dungeon, my manual labors were at an end, my cell was searched every night, and every kind of tool carefully kept from me.

Nevertheless, an active mind, which has once been forced into any particular train, can scarcely give it up as hopeless.  One day I chanced to observe a nail trodden into the mud floor at no great distance from me.  I seized upon this new treasure, and found that I could unlock with it the padlock that fastened me to the staple in the floor.  By this means I had the pitiful consolation of being able to range, without constraint, the miserable coop in which I was confined.  It became my constant practice to liberate myself at night; but security breeds negligence.  One morning I overslept myself, and the turnkey, to his surprise, found me disengaged.

Again my apartment was changed.  I was now put in the strong-room, an underground dungeon, and handcuffs were added to my fetters.

It was at this time that Thomas, Mr. Falkland’s footman, and an old acquaintance of mine, visited me.  He was of the better order of servants, and my condition shocked him.  He returned again in the afternoon.