Selecting a spot somewhat cleaner than the rest, he was about to seat himself, when happening to glance more closely, he sprang back with a horrified exclamation. Again he looked at the window and again he turned away in despair.
Night had closed in, and George made up his mind to a night of wakefulness rather than seat himself on that filthy ground. Round and round, backwards and forwards, he walked, wondering when some one would come who could give him something to sit upon.
Hours passed, but no one came. The time dragged so slowly that the night seemed never-ending. He began to feel hungry in spite of his sickening surroundings, and with his hunger came vain imaginings. He pictured all sorts of horrible torturings to which his savage captors might subject him. He wondered if he would be beheaded, or whether he would be shot; he would much prefer the latter, it seemed a cleaner way of dying and more in keeping with his calling. He laughed, as he pictured the rebels aiming at him and repeatedly missing their target, through bad marksmanship. Then he began to wonder what his companions would say when they heard of his end.
He stopped in front of the window and looked up at the sky. He stretched his arms and took hold of the two iron bars and shook them repeatedly, but they seemed quite firm and immovable. Several times he tried them, but each attempt left him more convinced than before that efforts in this direction were futile.
At last, utterly worn out and sick at heart, he leant against the wall and involuntarily his eyes closed; several times, as he dozed off, his knees gave way under him, and he narrowly escaped falling to the ground. Again he roused himself and started to walk.
He had not taken more than half-a-dozen steps when a hissing, crackling sound caught his ear and he paused to listen. What could it be? He went to the door from whence the sound proceeded. As he did so he noticed an unmistakable smell of burning.
He rushed to the window and looked out. The sky was clear and brilliantly illuminated with stars. Here the air was sweet and fresh. Turning again to the door, he noticed that the smell of burning had increased and the crackling was still going on. The truth flashed on him suddenly!
The gaol was on fire!
"So they would roast me alive, the scoundrels!" he muttered, as he stood hesitating as to what he should do.