His efforts were crowned with success.  As the city clock struck one Jack softly drew back the bolt, and, with a wild throb of joy, felt that freedom was half regained.  But his (sic) embarassments were not quite at an end.  Opening the door, he found himself in the entry, but in the darkness.  On entering the house he had not noticed the location of the stairs, and was afraid that some noise or stumbling might reveal to Foley the attempted escape of his prisoner.  He took off his boots, and crept down-stairs in his stocking feet.  Unfortunately he had not kept the proper bearing in his mind, and the result was, that he opened the door of a room on one side of the front door.  It was used as a bedroom.  At the sound of the door opening, the occupant of the bed, Mr. Foley himself, called out, drowsily, “Who’s there?”

Jack, aware of his mistake, precipitately retired, and concealed himself under the front stairs, a refuge which his good fortune led him to, for he could see absolutely nothing.

The sleeper, just awakened, was naturally a little confused in his ideas.  He had not seen Jack.  He had merely heard the noise, and thought he saw the door moving.  But of this he was not certain.  To make sure, however, he got out of bed, and opening wide the door of his room, called out, “Is anybody there?”

Jack had excellent reasons for not wishing to volunteer an answer to this question.  One advantage of the opened door (for there was a small oil lamp burning in the room) was to reveal to him the nature of the mistake he had made, and to show him the front door in which, by rare good fortune, he could discover the key in the lock.

Meanwhile the old man, to make sure that all was right, went up-stairs, far enough to see that the door of the apartment in which Jack had been confined was closed.  Had he gone up to the landing he would have seen the aperture in the door, and discovered the hole, but he was sleepy, and anxious to get back to bed, which rendered him less watchful.

“All seems right,” he muttered to himself, and re-entered the bed-chamber, from which Jack could soon hear the deep, regular breathing which indicated sound slumber.  Not till then did he creep cautiously from his place of concealment, and advancing stealthily to the front door, turn the key, and step out into the faintly-lighted street.  A delightful sensation thrilled our hero, as he felt the pure air fanning his cheek.

“Nobody can tell,” thought he, “what a blessed thing freedom is till he has been cooped up, as I have been, for the last week.  Won’t the old man be a little surprised to find, in the morning, that the bird has flown?  I’ve a great mind to serve him a little trick.”

So saying, Jack drew the key from its place inside, and locking the door after him, went off with the key in his. pocket.  First, however, he took care to scratch a little mark on the outside of the door, as he could not see the number, to serve as a means of identification.