These presents from one who cares much what happens to you.
If you have been in a like situation you can guess what happened then. When I was calmer I put the note carefully in my pocket and fell to my supper. I knew that I should need all my strength, and I was of a practical turn of mind even in the midst of my most romantic dreams. I had scarcely finished the poor provender when the turnkey re-entered. He was followed by a couple of other officials. The turnkey in a harsh manner, as if to impress the others, although he winked knowingly at me, said:
“By the order of the commandant you are to be transferred to another cell.”
“I do not wish to be transferred,” I returned hotly, to keep up the deception; “this cell suits me very well, and I am satisfied to remain here.”
“Your wishes are not consulted in this matter,” he returned roughly.
“You villain!” I cried, menacing him.
“Have a care,” he answered; “if you don’t go peaceably we’ll have to take you by force. Here, men!”
His two assistants stepped forward. I concluded that I had done enough, so, grumbling mightily, and giving evidence of my displeasure, I suffered them to lead me to the other cell, where I was soon locked in for the night. With what impatience I waited for the appointed hour!
At the first stroke of the bell I was at the window. The bars came out in my hand. Someone had chiseled out the mortar and replaced it with putty. I gained the sill and dropped. It was a long fall, but I was delighted when I alighted upon a truss of hay, which had evidently been thrown at the foot of the wall on purpose to receive me. I scrambled up and looked about. A man approached me. He had a weapon. I was without arms, and although I stood ready to spring, I had no doubt he was a messenger.
“Monsieur Burnham?” he asked.