“After supper, instead of going to bed, I shall hold myself in readiness for leaving my room, and I shall leave it when I see the light extinguished in the ante-room, while I shall take care that my candle be so placed as not to shew any light outside, or to reflect my shadow.  Once out of my room, I shall have no difficulty in reaching the stairs, and my escape will be accomplished.  I shall go to Binetti’s, leave the town by his house, and wait for you at Furstenburg.  No one can hinder you from joining me in the course of a day or two.  So when you see me ready in my room, and this will be whilst the sentry is having his supper, put out the candle on the table:  you can easily manage to do so whilst snuffing it.  You will then take it to re-light it, and I shall seize that moment to get off in the darkness.  When you conclude that I have got out of the ante-room, you can come back to the soldier with the lighted candle, and you can help him to finish his bottle.  By that time I shall be safe, and when you tell him I have gone to bed he will come to the door, wish me good night, and after locking the door and putting the key in his pocket he will go away with you.  It is not likely that he will come in and speak to me when he hears I have gone to bed.”

Nevertheless, as he might possibly take it into his head to come into the room, I carefully arranged a wig-block in a night-cap on the pillow, and huddled up the coverlet so as to deceive a casual glance.

All my plans were successful, as I heard afterwards from my Spaniard.  Whilst he was drinking with the sentry I was getting on my great coat, girding on my hanger (I had no longer a sword), and putting my loaded pistols in my pocket.  As soon as the darkness told me that Le Duc had put out the candle I went out softly, and reached the staircase without making the least noise.  Once there the rest was easy, for the stair led into the passage, and the passage to the main door, which was always open till nearly midnight.

I stepped out along the street, and at a quarter to twelve I got to Binetti’s, and found his wife looking out for me at the window.  When I was in the room, whence I intended to escape, we lost no time.  I threw my overcoat to Baletti, who was standing in the ditch below, up to the knees in mud, and binding a strong cord round my waist I embraced the Binetti and Baletti’s wife, who lowered me down as gently as possible.  Baletti received me in his arms, I cut the cord, and after taking my great coat I followed his footsteps.  We strode through the mud, and going along a hedge we reached the high road in a state of exhaustion, although it was not more than a hundred paces as the crow flies from where we stood to the house.  At a little distance off, beside a small wayside inn, we found the postchaise in which sat Baletti’s servant.  He got out, telling us that the postillion had just gone into the inn to have a glass of beer and light his pipe.  I took the good servant’s place, and gave him a reward, and begged them both to be gone, saying I would manage all the rest myself.