He watched for a full half hour; and, as nothing more seemed likely to be thrown in to him, he turned his attention to that which had at first startled him, and which he now imagined might be something projected into his cell after the fashion of the folded sheet. Groping over the floor, he became convinced of it. His hand came in contact with a knife! He felt that its blade was in a sheath, a covering of goat-skin, such as he had seen carried by the brigands. Without comprehending the intent of the unexpected presents, or from whom they had come, he could not help thinking there was a purpose in them; and, after watching the window another hour or so, he began conjecturing what this purpose might be.
He was not very successful. A variety of hypotheses came before his mind, but none that satisfied him. Under the circumstances the gift of a keen-bladed knife suggested suicide; but that could hardly be the intent of the donor. At all events, the recipient, wretched as he was, did not feel himself reduced to quite such a state of despair. No doubt there was writing on the paper, and no doubt, could he have read it, it would have enlightened him. But there was no chance to do so, nor would there be until morning. His sense of touch was not sufficiently delicate to enable him to decipher it in the darkness, and there was no help for it but to wait for the dawn.
He did wait till dawn, but not one instant after. As the first rays of the aurora came stealing through the aperture, he stood close to it, spreading the unfolded sheet upon the sill. There was writing. The words were Italian, and, fortunately, written in a bold, clerkly hand, though evidently in haste. In the translation it ran thus:—
“You must make your escape upwards, towards the zenith. There is no chance towards the horizon on any side. The knife will enable you to cut your way through the roof. And take care to slide off the back of the house, the sentry being in front. Once out, make for the pass by which you came up. You should remember it. It lies due north. If you need guiding, look for the Polar star. At the head of the gorge there is a picket. You may easily steal past him. If not—you have the knife! But, with proper caution, there need be no occasion for your using it. His duty is not much by night. He has only to listen to any signal that may be given from below. And his post is not in the gorge, but on the summit—to one side. You may easily creep into the ravine, and past, without his seeing you. At the mountain foot it is different. The sentry placed there is only for the night. In daytime he would be of no use—as the place can be seen from above in time to give warning of any approach. This man will be awake, as his life would be forfeited by his being found asleep. He would be concealed upon the edge of the ravine. You cannot pass, without his seeing you; and you must then use the knife. Don’t try to pass; he would have the advantage of seeing you first. Instead, conceal yourself in the ravine, and remain there till morning. At daybreak he will leave his post—as it is then no longer necessary to keep it. He comes up to the rendezvous. Wait till he has passed you; and also till he has got to the head of the gorge—longer if you like. Then make your way off as you best can. Go with all speed, for you will be seen and pursued. Make for the house where you stopped on your way hither. Save yourself! Save Lucetta Torreani!”
The astonishment caused by this strange epistle hindered the reader from perceiving that there was a postscript. He saw it at length. It ran as follows:—
“If you would also save the writer, swallow this note as soon as you have read it.”
Having run it over again, to make sure of its meaning—and to memorise the instructions it contained—the postscript was almost litre rally complied with; and when the jailer entered the cell, bearing the usual breakfast of boiled macaroni, not a scrap of paper could be seen, nor anything to create suspicion. The prisoner only spoke of hunger; and began masticating the macaroni as though the tasteless stuff was the most savoury of dishes.