"I've see worse coves nor you!" said he, "and one good turn desarvin' another—lie snug all day, and travel by night, and keep to the byroads—this ain't no common case, there'll be a thousand pound on your 'ead afore the week's out—so look spry, my cove!" saying which, he nodded, turned upon his heel, and strode away, cursing to himself.
Now, presently, as I went, I heard the merry ring and clink of hammer and anvil, and, guided by the sound, came to a tumbledown smithy where was a man busily at work, with a shock-headed boy at the bellows. At sight of me, the smith set down his hammer and stared openmouthed, as did also the shock-headed boy.
"How long would it take you to file off these shackles?" I inquired, holding out my hands.
"To—to file 'em off?"
"Yes."
"Why, that—that depends—"
"Then do it—as soon as you can." Upon this, the man turned his back to me and began rummaging among his tools, with his head very near that of the shock-headed boy, until, having found a file suitable to the purpose, he set to work upon my handcuffs. But he progressed so slowly, for one reason and another, that I began to grow impatient; moreover, noticing that the shock-headed boy had disappeared, I bade him desist.
"A cold chisel and hammer will be quickest," said I; "come, cut me off this chain—here, close up to the rivets." And, when he had done this, I took his file, and thrusting it beneath my coat, set off, running my hardest, leaving him to stare after me, with his eyes and mouth wider than ever.
The sun was down when I reached the woods, and here, in the kind shadows, I stayed awhile to rest, and rid myself of my handcuffs; but, when I felt for the file to do so—it was gone.