At about ten o’clock, a load of wood came for the prisoners. Permission was then asked to have the doors opened, that they might come up and fetch it. This was denied, and the prisoners in the rooms above were ordered to throw the wood down to those in the dungeon, through the air holes, but, fortunately for me, the billets were too large to pass through the gratings. Our guards were therefore obliged to open the souterrain, and allow a certain number of the prisoners to ascend, in order to fetch the wood down. A strict guard was placed at the door.
I contrived to get some clean clothes down, which were conveyed to me through the bars, and I concerted a plan with one of my fellow-prisoners that were bringing the wood down, a very respectable and well-conducted man, a serjeant of marines of H.M.S. Magnificent. He was to make a particular sign, by putting his hand on the back part of his head, when the guard’s eyes were off the door; which he did, and at that instant I glided, or rather jumped out.
The sentinels seized me, and desired me to descend again instantly. I asked why they did not allow me to come up, since they had just now permitted me to go down? I told them that I did not belong to the souterrain, and that I had descended merely out of curiosity to see what the prisoners had been about the last night. I reminded those who had been in the habit of mustering the room to which I belonged, of their mistake, and asked them how they could possibly suppose that I belonged to the souterrain? They looked at me, appeared convinced, and seemed surprised that they could not recollect my having passed them in my descent, begged my pardon, and allowed me to pursue my way. I reached my own apartment, where, in a few seconds, I was indisposed, and snug in bed. Thus did I avoid being sent to the galleys: for, after my reiterated attempts to escape, one more detection would have consigned me to that horrible fate.
There was no danger of my being now discovered, until the gendarme, who granted me the permission, should be liberated. In the afternoon I obtained leave to go to the dungeon, to see my poor comrades and condole with them. They were much rejoiced at my good fortune, but feared my trick would soon be found out. Eight days passed on: I frequently paid those poor fellows a visit during the time. The gendarme Buché was then released, and I was obliged to keep constantly in the room when he was on duty; and, when he came to muster us, I was covered over in bed. They never called the names: to count heads was their method, which suited me admirably. Five more days had passed away in a similar manner, when we received orders to prepare for a general review, which usually takes place once a month.
4th August.—On this day we were all placed in ranks and minutely inspected. It appeared to my friends and myself that I could not avoid discovery on this occasion, as all the gendarmes attended. There was no exception or excuse of sickness to be made; if a prisoner was able to crawl he must attend, and frequently they were carried. I took my station in the ranks, expecting in a few minutes to be lodged with my old companions in limbo.
The gendarme, whom I had so long avoided, riveted his eyes upon me. I had received information that he was going to make known to the commandant Clement, or to General Maisonneuve, that I had importuned him more than the rest, and was the person who prevailed on him to let any down. He was astonished at seeing me, having been informed that I was in the dungeon with the others. Shortly afterwards he passed me, and I saw him go and speak to both the above-mentioned officers: I was then confident he had completed the business. The review took place; every one was inspected, and some were asked several questions. I was passed over with very little notice. I could not account for it, yet was of opinion that they would have said something on the subject had they been made acquainted with it. Glad was I when we were all dismissed and the officers allowed to retire. My escape was to me unaccountable, but not on that score the less welcome; I was, however, so confounded at my good fortune that I had forebodings that some latent mischief was held in reserve.
Whilst I was pacing to and fro, in an awkward dilemma, the gendarme Buché approached and accosted me in these words:—
“By what miracle have you escaped from the dungeon? How, in the name of all wonders, have you got up from the souterrain? I have seen you walking about some days, although perhaps you did not see me.”
There was no mistaking his meaning, but, full of apprehensions as I was, I resolved to put on a face of wonder at his thus presuming to address me, and to persevere in an assertion of my ignorance of all he alluded to.
“Pray, sir,” I replied, “and why should I be put in the dungeon?”