He could not be mistaken; something fatal must have befallen his friend.  Israel remembered the Squire’s hinting that in case of the discovery of his clandestine proceedings it would fare extremely hard with him, Israel was forced to conclude that this same unhappy discovery had been made; that owing to some untoward misadventure his good friend had been carried off a State-prisoner to London; that prior to his going the Squire had not apprised any member of his household that he was about to leave behind him a prisoner in the wall; this seemed evident from the circumstance that, thus far, no soul had visited that prisoner.  It could not be otherwise.  Doubtless the Squire, having no opportunity to converse in private with his relatives or friends at the moment of his sudden arrest, had been forced to keep his secret, for the present, for fear of involving Israel in still worse calamities.  But would he leave him to perish piecemeal in the wall?  All surmise was baffled in the unconjecturable possibilities of the case.  But some sort of action must speedily be determined upon.  Israel would not additionally endanger the Squire, but he could not in such uncertainty consent to perish where he was.  He resolved at all hazards to escape, by stealth and noiselessly, if possible; by violence and outcry, if indispensable.

Gliding out of the cell, he descended the stone stairs, and stood before the interior of the jamb.  He felt an immovable iron knob, but no more.  He groped about gently for some bolt or spring.  When before he had passed through the passage with his guide, he had omitted to notice by what precise mechanism the jamb was to be opened from within, or whether, indeed, it could at all be opened except from without.

He was about giving up the search in despair, after sweeping with his two hands every spot of the wall-surface around him, when chancing to turn his whole body a little to one side, he heard a creak, and saw a thin lance of light.  His foot had unconsciously pressed some spring laid in the floor.  The jamb was ajar.  Pushing it open, he stood at liberty, in the Squire’s closet.

CHAPTER XIII.

HIS ESCAPE FROM THE HOUSE, WITH VARIOUS ADVENTURES FOLLOWING.

He started at the funereal aspect of the room, into which, since he last stood there, undertakers seemed to have stolen.  The curtains of the window were festooned with long weepers of crape.  The four corners of the red cloth on the round table were knotted with crape.

Knowing nothing of these mournful customs of the country, nevertheless, Israel’s instinct whispered him that Squire Woodcock lived no more on this earth.  At once the whole three days’ mystery was made clear.  But what was now to be done?  His friend must have died very suddenly; most probably struck down in a fit, from which he never more rose.  With him had perished all knowledge of the fact that