Sandy was borne to the other side of the dungeon, and his head put close to the crevice, through which he could see the white ripples on the summer sea far below.
A deep inspiration seemed for a moment to give new life—then a prolonged sigh, and the freed happy soul swept from the dungeons of earth to the realms of celestial, light and liberty.
“He’s breathin’ the air o’ Paradise noo,” said Black, as he assisted to remove the dead man from the opening which the living were so eager to reach.
“Ye was up in the ither dungeon last night,” he said, turning to the man who had aided him; “what was a’ the groans an’ cries aboot?”
“Torturin’ the puir lads that tried to escape,” answered the man with a dark frown.
“Hm! I thoucht as muckle. They were gey hard on them, I dar’say?”
“They were that! Ye see, the disease that’s broke oot amang them—whatever it is—made some o’ them sae desprit that they got through the wundy that looks to the sea an’ creepit alang the precipice. It was a daft-like thing to try in the daylight; but certain death would hae been their lot, I suspec’, if they had ventured on a precipice like that i’ the dark. Some women washin’ doon below saw them and gied the alarm. The gairds cam’, the hue and cry was raised, the yetts were shut and fifteen were catched an’ brought back—but twenty-five got away. My heart is wae for the fifteen. They were laid on their backs on benches; their hands were bound doon to the foot o’ the forms, an’ burnin’ matches were putt atween every finger, an’ the sodgers blew on them to keep them alight. The governor, ye see, had ordered this to gang on withoot stoppin’ for three oors! Some o’ the puir fallows were deid afore the end o’ that time, an’ I’m thinkin’ the survivors’ll be crippled for life.”
While listening to the horrible tale Andrew Black resolved on an attempt to escape that very night.
“Wull ye gang wi’ me?” he asked of the only comrade whom he thought capable of making the venture; but the comrade shook his head. “Na,” he said, “I’ll no’ try. They’ve starved me to that extent that I’ve nae strength left. I grow dizzy at the vera thoucht. But d’ye think the wundy’s big enough to let ye through?”
“Oo ay,” returned Black with a faint smile. “I was ower stoot for’t ance, but it’s an ill wund that blaws nae guid. Stervation has made me thin enough noo.”