Stagers and I were both disguised as clergymen, and were quite freely admitted to the condemned man’s cell. In fact, there was in the little town a certain trustful simplicity about all their arrangements. The day but one before the execution Stagers informed me that File had the pills, which he, Stagers, had contrived to give him. Stagers seemed pleased with our plan. I was not. He was really getting uneasy and suspicious of me—as I was soon to find out.
So far our plans, or rather mine, had worked to a marvel. Certain of File’s old accomplices succeeded in bribing the hangman to shorten the time of suspension. Arrangements were made to secure me two hours alone with the prisoner, so that nothing seemed to be wanting to this tomfool business. I had assured Stagers that I would not need to see File again previous to the operation; but in the forenoon of the day before that set for the execution I was seized with a feverish impatience, which luckily prompted me to visit him once more. As usual, I was admitted readily, and nearly reached his cell when I became aware, from the sound of voices heard through the grating in the door, that there was a visitor in the cell. “Who is with him?” I inquired of the turnkey.
“The doctor,” he replied.
“Doctor?” I said, pausing. “What doctor?”
“Oh, the jail doctor. I was to come back in half an hour to let him out; but he’s got a quarter to stay. Shall I let you in, or will you wait?”
“No,” I replied; “it is hardly right to interrupt them. I will walk in the corridor for ten minutes or so, and then you can come back to let me into the cell.”
“Very good,” he returned, and left me.
As soon as I was alone, I cautiously advanced until I stood alongside of the door, through the barred grating of which I was able readily to hear what went on within. The first words I caught were these:
“And you tell me, doctor, that, even if a man’s windpipe was open, the hanging would kill him—are you sure?”
“Yes, I believe there would be no doubt of it. I cannot see how escape would be possible. But let me ask you why you have sent for me to ask these singular questions. You cannot have the faintest hope of escape, and least of all in such a manner as this. I advise you to think about the fate which is inevitable. You must, I fear, have much to reflect upon.”