1829.] Recollections of a Night of Fever. 483 
were in the pale glimmer. I started up to examine it, and found that 
the jailer, in his hurry, or in his intoxication—a state that always pre- 
vailed with him, more or less, towards the evening—had turned the key 
in the lock without first fairly closing the door, so that the bolt had been 
shot beside the staple. Here, then, was a chance of escape when I least 
expected it, if the occasion were only boldly, wisely, and seasonably 
employed. Boldly and in good time I resolved to use it; whether 
wisely or not, the result would shew. Leaving my dungeon, I entered a 
long winding corridor, and after passing through an empty room of 
somewhat less dimensions than the onewhich I had just quitted, at length 
found it terminate in a sort of porch or hall, closed by the great gate of 
the prison, the only obstacle that now remained between me and freedom. 
It was, however, guarded, and trebly guarded by locks, bolts, and bars, 
all of the most formidable calibre ; but the jailer, with the keys at his 
girdle, and his hat slouched over his face so as to conceal his features, 
sate in an arm-chair before a blazing wood fire, which roared up the 
chimney, and danced in broad light upon the walls. The cigar that he 
had been smoking hung loosely in his hand, half-burnt out ; and by his 
side was a rough deal table on three legs, scored and stained with the 
marks of former debauchery, and now set out with a horn jug and a 
flagon, that, by the smell, had contained brandy—thus proving the fixed- 
ness of his habits, while all round him was changing, not only from day 
to day, but from hour to hour, and, it might almost be said, from minute 
to minute. 
_ I listened, and was convinced that the man slept; but, besides that 
his slumber was far from sound, as was evident from his disturbed 
breathing and the occasional lifting of his arms, I could hardly hope, 
under any circumstances, to detach the keys from his belt, and undo the 
ponderous bolts and bars, without awaking him. There was but little 
time for choice or reflection. Such an opportunity was not likely to last 
long, and still less to occur a second time, so that what I did I must 
do quickly. To murder him was all that was left to me, and, seeing no 
‘cause to hesitate when the alternative was his life or mine, I drew from 
my bosom a knife, that, by some negligence on the part of the searchers, 
Z had been fortunate enough to retain. In another instant he had been 
with the dead. I raised my arm to strike ; but just then he seemed to 
be awaking. I paused: there was a smothered laugh beneath the hat, 
and, strange to say, it thrilled through me. I trembled from head to 
foot ; but there was no time to be lost, and the weapon glittered in its 
descent—when the appalling cry, “ Encore un!” again burst upon my 
ear, striking me almost senseless. The cloak and hat dropped from the 
supposed sleeper ; and there again was the untiring monster, in all his 
hideousness! For an instant we gazed on each other, without words 
_and without motion. I had no power either to stir or speak—to depre- 
_¢ate his approach, or to fly from it. 
_ The spell slowly dissolved. I crept, or rather glided from him, my 
eyes still fixed upon his visage, till the wall prevented further flight. I 
as now like a stag at bay. He began to move in his turn. With a 
g, measured stride, he put forth one foot, and it came again to the 
oor with the sound of an enormous hammer on the anvil. There, for 
e space of a minute, he paused, fixing me with his fierce red eyes, that 
ed to burn with some unholy fire. He took a second step, slow and 
ging as the first—a third—a fourth!—and the fifth brought him 
3Q2 
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