“I have considered many plans,” replied Spikeman, “but only one doth seem capable of execution.  Yet I fear me much thy courage will fail, even when thou hast but to extend thy hand to grasp thy freedom.  The thing is not unattended with peril.”

“Doubt not my courage, nor talk of peril to a man confined in a place like this, when the chance of freeing himself is offered.  Try me, and see whether heart or hand fail.”

“These are brave words, Philip, yet have I seen them who talked as boldly, and yet flinched at the decisive moment.”

“Who ever dared to call Philip Joy a coward?” cried the soldier, impatiently.  “Methinks it is so long since I struck a blow worthy of a man, that I long to be doing, if only to keep my hand in practice.”

“Then listen,” said Spikeman, lowering his voice, and supposing that he had got the soldier sufficiently worked up and committed by his language.  “With this key”—­taking one from his pocket—­“will I unfasten thy manacles, and under pretext of unwittingly leaving open the door of thy cell, direct the jailer to enter and lock it, when thou, being a strong and active man, may, on his entrance, overpower him, and grant thyself free passage, and with five minutes’ start, who is there could find thee in the woods?”

But Joy hesitated.  “Liberty is sweet,” he said, “yet would I be loth to do aught to harm Bars.”

“What favor owe you him?” demanded Spikeman.  “Has he not evil entreated thee, and loaded thee with unnecessary and cruel bands of iron, till compelled by me to remove them?”

“I do suppose he was acting by order of his superiors.  In all other matters, Sam has been kind to me, and he did almost weep when he placed the iron bands around my body.  Nay, but to lay hand on him, goes mightily against my stomach.”

“Then remain to rot, if you like it better, in spite of all your boastful speeches, for the darkness and damp seem to have sucked all manhood out of thee; or shouldst thou survive a month, to have thine ears cropped and thy back scourged, and after that—­”

“By all the devils in hell,” interrupted Joy, “that shall never be.  Unlock my irons..  I will do the part of a man.”

The tempter applied the key, and unlocking the gyves, removed them, and placed them on the ground.

“They are heavy,” he said.  “A well-directed blow on the head would confuse a man’s thoughts.  It is time to depart.  When thou art free, Philip, as, if possessing courage, thou art sure soon to be, forget not the friend who helped thee to thy liberty.”

With these words, the Assistant took up the lantern, and leaving the door ajar as he had proposed, proceeded to the outer entrance, Here he found the jailer waiting, who, after locking up, attended him at his request a short distance on his way homeward.