He quickly turned to the bed, seized a sheet and tore it into strips, impatiently thrusting them into the other’s hands.  The first letter had foretold all this, and the prisoner knew what was expected of him.  He therefore securely bound the guard’s legs and arms.  With a grim smile the captive nodded his head toward the revolver, the lantern and the keys.  His obliging prisoner secured them, as well as his own personal effects, and was ready to depart.  According to instructions he was to go forth, locking the doors behind him, leaving the man to be discovered the next morning by surprised keepers.  It struck him that there was something absurd in this part of the plan.  How was this guard to explain his position with absolutely no sign of a struggle to bear him out?  It was hardly plausible that a big, strong fellow could be so easily overpowered single-handed; there was something wretchedly incongruous about the—­but there came a startling and effective end to all criticism.

The guard, bound as he was, suddenly turned and lunged head-foremost against the sharp bedpost.  His head struck with a thud, and he rolled to the floor as if dead.  Uttering an exclamation of horror, Lorry ran to his side.  Blood was gushing from a long gash across his head, and he was already unconscious.  Sickened by the brave sacrifice, he picked the man up and placed him on the bed.

A hasty examination proved that it was no more than a scalp wound, and that death was too remote to be feared.  The guard had done his part nobly, and it was now the prisoner’s turn to act as resolutely and as unflinchingly.  Sorry to leave the poor fellow in what seemed an inhuman manner, he strode into the corridor, closed and locked the doors clumsily, and began the descent of the stairs.  He had been instructed to act unhesitatingly, as the slightest show of nervousness would result in discovery.

With the helmet well down over his face and the cape well up, he steadily, even noisily made his way to the next floor below.  There were prisoners on this floor, while he had been the only occupant of the floor above.  Straight ahead he went, flashing his lantern here and there, passing down another stairway and into the main corridor.  Here he met a guard who had just come in from the outside.  The man addressed him in the language of the country, and his heart almost stopped beating.  How was he to answer?  Mumbling something almost inaudible, he hurried on to the ground floor, trembling with fear lest the man should call to him to halt.  He was relieved to find, in the end, that his progress was not to be impeded.  In another moment he was boldly unlocking the door that led to the visitors’ hall.  Then came the door to the warden’s office.  Here he found three sleepy guards, none of whom paid any attention to him as he passed through and entered Captain Dangloss’ private room.  The gruff old Captain sat at a desk, writing.  The escaping man half paused as if to speak to him.  A sharp cough from the Captain and a significant jerk of the head told him that there must be no delay, no words.  Opening the door he stepped out into a storm so fierce and wild that he shuddered apprehensively.