I hoped that there was nothing ominous in the choice of this old song to end our concert.  Moonlight would be fatal to our enterprise; and I was quite ignorant whether the moon rose early or late.  But we had gone so far that our attempt must be made this very night, for with the morning the cutting of the rope would without doubt be discovered; the alarm would be given, and the ensuing search would bring to light not merely the severed rope, but our operations upon the wall.

We went up into our dormitory, taking with us our instruments as usual, among them the bass viol of our invention.  This was to serve as our raft.  We waited for several hours with feelings painfully tense.  None of us was inclined to talk; my nine comrades were, I doubt not, wondering as anxiously as I myself what the issue of our attempt would be.

When all was quiet, the strongest of them removed the stone at the inner end of the tunnel, and set it down with many precautions on the floor.  Then Runnles, being a little man, crawled to the other end and looped the rope about the loosened stone there.  This we hauled inwards an inch at a time, stopping after every pull to listen.  It seemed endless work to drag it into the room, but at last it was done, and we set the stone alongside the other.

Our way was now clear.  I had insisted on being the first to descend, though Joe Punchard and two other men volunteered for that office, pleading that they were mariners of longer standing than I, and therefore fitter for the climbing work.  But this I would by no means agree to—­the suggestion and the plan being mine, it was meet that I should be the first to face what perils it might involve.  Accordingly, I first crawled through the tunnel to see whether the aspect of the sky favored an immediate descent, and, being reassured on that point, I went back into the room to make the final preparations.

We stripped a plank from one of the truckle beds and placed it across the opening, one end of the rope being knotted about its middle; the knots were firm, you may be sure, as none but sailors can make them.  Then, taking the other end of the rope, I went to the outward end and lowered it very gently towards the moat, knowing that it would not be seen in the darkness by the sentry on the battlements above even if he chanced to look over, and to that he would have no temptation.

There was a good deal of doubt among us as to whether the rope was long enough for our purpose.  The bosun, who had crawled after me, whispered he was sure it was too short.  And when I had let it down to its full length and drawn it up again, as yard after yard it came dry through my fingers I began to fear that the bosun was right.  But at last the rope left a slimy wetness upon my hands, and I rejoiced to find that two or three yards of it had fallen into the water.