I tried the walls, and I tried the floor, and I tried the ceiling, but though I tapped and probed, they all appeared to be very thick and solid.  The door was of iron, shutting with a spring lock, and provided with a small grating, through which a warder looked twice in every night.  Within there were two beds, two stools, two washstands—­nothing more.  It was enough for my wants, for when had I had as much during those twelve years spent in camps?  But how was I to get out?  Night after night I thought of my five hundred hussars, and had dreadful nightmares, in which I fancied that the whole regiment needed shoeing, or that my horses were all bloated with green fodder, or that they were foundered from bogland, or that six squadrons were clubbed in the presence of the Emperor.  Then I would awake in a cold sweat, and set to work picking and tapping at the walls once more; for I knew very well that there is no difficulty which cannot be overcome by a ready brain and a pair of cunning hands.

There was a single window in our cell, which was too small to admit a child.  It was further defended by a thick iron bar in the centre.  It was not a very promising point of escape, as you will allow, but I became more and more convinced that our efforts must be directed towards it.  To make matters worse, it only led out into the exercise yard, which was surrounded by two high walls.  Still, as I said to my sullen comrade, it is time to talk of the Vistula when you are over the Rhine.  I got a small piece of iron, therefore, from the fittings of my bed, and I set to work to loosen the plaster at the top and the bottom of the bar.  Three hours I would work, and then leap into my bed upon the sound of the warder’s step.  Then another three hours, and then very often another yet, for I found that Beaumont was so slow and clumsy at it that it was on myself only that I could rely.

I pictured to myself my Third of Hussars waiting just outside that window, with kettle-drums and standards and leopard-skin schabraques all complete.  Then I would work like a madman, until my iron was crusted with blood, as if with rust.  And so, night by night, I loosened that stony plaster, and hid it away in the stuffing of my pillow, until the hour came when the iron shook; and then with one good wrench it came off in my hand, and my first step had been made towards freedom.

You will ask me what better off I was, since, as I have said, a child could not have fitted through the opening.  I will tell you.  I had gained two things—­a tool and a weapon.  With the one I might loosen the stone which flanked the window.  With the other I might defend myself when I had scrambled through.  So now I turned my attention to that stone, and I picked and picked with the sharpened end of my bar until I had worked out the mortar all round.  You understand, of course, that during the day I replaced everything in its position, and that the warder was never permitted to see a speck