After the great victory of Friedland there was a truce to discuss peace, so Hans still remained a prisoner; and one day he was ordered to work in the garden of the castle.
"Food is scarce, prisoners are many and idle. We may have some vegetables; why not?" asked the commandant.
"The good God again," thought Hans, for he had his own idea about that sewer. The garden must be drained. The pipe, certainly, must do the labour, and, the good God helping him, he might again see his Bettina.
And one day in the garden he came upon the iron lid of a manhole, overgrown with grass and very rusty.
"The sewer!" thought Hans, with joy. "It is big enough for a man to slip through."
He bent over. He pulled on the bars. Then he glanced up to see if he were observed. The eye of a sentinel seemed on him, so, seizing a weed, he pulled hard, tugged, and then rising with the thing in his hand, flung it aside. Satisfied, the sentinel showed no more curiosity.
Again and again he tried to loosen the lid, but no effort could move it; but though he went about his work, he returned now and then to his prize, and suddenly, while he was in a different part of the garden, an idea struck him. The bar on which the lid was swung was eaten with rust. Could he break it, the lid could be lifted at will.
He returned and examined closely. Yes, he was right; the rust was of ages. Lifting his spade, he pressed with all his might. God be praised! It was easier than he had thought. More pressure and it broke like wood. The other side was more difficult and it occupied days, but at last it was free.
"Now the Herr Lieutenant!" thought Hans in glee.
"The thing for me," cried Franz, his face alight with new hope, "is to feign illness, entreat for some labour and beg to be allowed to help in the garden."