It was a good deal of a relief when the third evening closed about the castle with volumes of sea-fog.  The lights of Princes Street sometimes disappeared, sometimes blinked across at us no brighter than the eyes of cats; and five steps from one of the lanterns on the ramparts it was already groping dark.  We made haste to lie down.  Had our jailers been upon the watch, they must have observed our conversation to die out unusually soon.  Yet I doubt if any of us slept.  Each lay in his place, tortured at once with the hope of liberty and the fear of a hateful death.  The guard call sounded; the hum of the town declined by little and little.  On all sides of us, in their different quarters, we could hear the watchman cry the hours along the street.  Often enough, during my stay in England, have I listened to these gruff or broken voices; or perhaps gone to my window when I lay sleepless, and watched the old gentleman hobble by upon the causeway with his cape and his cap, his hanger and his rattle.  It was ever a thought with me how differently that cry would re-echo in the chamber of lovers, beside the bed of death, or in the condemned cell.  I might be said to hear it that night myself in the condemned cell!  At length a fellow with a voice like a bull’s began to roar out in the opposite thoroughfare: 

‘Past yin o’cloak, and a dark, haary moarnin’.’

At which we were all silently afoot.

As I stole about the battlements towards the—­gallows, I was about to write—­the sergeant-major, perhaps doubtful of my resolution, kept close by me, and occasionally proffered the most indigestible reassurances in my ear.  At last I could bear them no longer.

‘Be so obliging as to let me be!’ said I.  ’I am neither a coward nor a fool.  What do you know of whether the rope be long enough?  But I shall know it in ten minutes!’

The good old fellow laughed in his moustache, and patted me.

It was all very well to show the disposition of my temper before a friend alone; before my assembled comrades the thing had to go handsomely.  It was then my time to come on the stage; and I hope I took it handsomely.

‘Now, gentlemen,’ said I, ’if the rope is ready, here is the criminal!’

The tunnel was cleared, the stake driven, the rope extended.  As I moved forward to the place, many of my comrades caught me by the hand and wrung it, an attention I could well have done without.

‘Keep an eye on Clausel!’ I whispered to Laclas; and with that, got down on my elbows and knees took the rope in both hands, and worked myself, feet foremost, through the tunnel.  When the earth failed under my feet, I thought my heart would have stopped; and a moment after I was demeaning myself in mid-air like a drunken jumping-jack.  I have never been a model of piety, but at this juncture prayers and a cold sweat burst from me simultaneously.