Here was a chance for escape! His captor had forgotten the matches which he had used to light the cigars. This was an opportunity!
Harry knocked the match box to the floor. After falling, and striking his head against the leg of the table, he gained a sitting position.
He brought his hands to one side as far as possible. Then he struck a match, and managed to set it on the box. His plan was to bring his wrists to the flame.
But the plan failed to work. He singed his wrists instead of the rope. He was in his shirt sleeves, and there was imminent danger of his cuffs catching fire. The match went out.
Harry’s second attempt was as futile as the first.
He realized that he must suffer considerable pain, if he insisted upon this method of escape. He could not see his hands, and it was impossible to find the flame with the necessary accuracy to burn the rope.
Harry was willing to sustain a few burns, but he did not care to blister his wrists and still remain a captive. That was the only result that he could foresee.
He sat for a few silent minutes. Then a different idea came to his mind.
He lighted another match and placed it on the box. He shifted his body as rapidly as possible, and extended his legs. He brought the rope that bound his ankles above the flame. His trousers cuffs interfered, but he managed to push them up a trifle.
This method was feasible. Harry could see what he was doing. The ropes around his ankles had thick folds. If he could sever one, he would have his feet free.