The 'jolly pair of
handcuffs,' provided by the thoughtful Governor, lay discarded in his
distant cell; the chains which a few hours since had grappled him to the
floor encumbered the now useless staple. No trace of the ancient slavery
disgraced him save the iron anklets which clung about his legs; though
many a broken wall and shattered lock must serve for evidence of his
prowess on the morrow. The Stone-Jug was all be-chipped and shattered.
From the castle he had forced his way through a nine-foot wall into
the Red Room, whose bolts, bars, and hinges he had ruined to gain the
Chapel. The road thence to the roof and to freedom was hindered by three
stubborn iron doors; yet naught stood in the way of Sheppard's genius,
and he was sensible, at last, of the night air chill upon his cheek.
But liberty was not yet: there was still a fall of forty feet, and he
must needs repass the wreckage of his own making to filch the blankets
from his cell. In terror lest he should awaken the Master-Side Debtors,
he hastened back to the roof, lashed the coverlets together, and, as the
city clocks clashed twelve, he dropped noiselessly upon the leads of
a turner's house, built against the prison's outer wall. Behind him
Newgate was cut out a black mass against the sky; at his feet glimmered
the garret window of the turner's house, and behind the winking casement
he could see the turner's servant going to bed. Through her chamber lay
the road to glory and Clare Market, and breathlessly did Sheppard watch
till the candle should be extinguished and the maid silenced in sleep.
Pages:
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133