"Yes, I think so. At any rate, we must try."
"What is your plan?"
"We must escape from the guards outside the prison," said Geoffrey, looking down at Sydney and the Duke, who were doing cyclopean work under the eye of the Warder. "Those two could never escape from the cells, nor climb the walls if they did."
"True," answered Featherstone, with a despondent manner; "but we are no nearer freedom than ever, if we have no definite plan."
"I have a definite plan," said Geoffrey, "and I think a good one. We must remain outside some evening when the convicts march in. On every evening but Wednesday and Saturday we go straight to our cells when we go in from work, and we close our own doors, so that if we remained outside on any evening but those two we should be instantly missed. On Wednesday and Saturday evenings the prisoners are taken off work one hour earlier and are sent to school. We want at least an hour's start for the sake of those two; you and I could do with half the time. Therefore we must remain behind on one of those two days."
"But how?" asked Featherstone, impatiently. "The Warder walks beside us."
"We must manage to send him off or have him called away," answered Geoffrey. "Can it be done?"
Featherstone did not answer. He went on working; he even spoke about other things, as if he had not heard Geoffrey's question. In about half an hour he said:
"I think it cannot be done. What do you think?"
"I think so too," said Geoffrey.