There, stand between him
and the wall, put a foot under him, roll him over. There, nothing
could be better! Now then, off we go with him. The weight's more
than twice as much as the others."
Rupert lay with his face down on the stretcher, and felt himself
carried upstairs, then along several long passages, then through a
door, and felt the fresh evening air. Now by the sound he knew that
he was being carried over the bridge across the moat to the burying
ground. Then the stretcher was laid down.
"Now then, roll him over into the hole," one said, "and let us go
back for the last. Peste! I am sick of this job, and shall need a
bottle of eau de vie to put me straight again."
One side of the stretcher was lifted, and Rupert was rolled over.
The fall was not deep, some three or four feet only, and he fell on
a soft mass, whose nature he could well guess at. A minute later he
heard the retreating footsteps of his gaolers, and leaping from the
grave, stood a free man by its side.
He knew that he was not only free, but safe from any active
pursuit, for he felt sure that the gaolers, when they returned with
their last load, would throw it in and fill up the grave, and that
no suspicion that it contained one short of the number would arise.
This in itself was an immense advantage to him, for on the escape
of a prisoner from Loches--an event which had happened but once or
twice in its records--a gun was fired and the whole country turned
out in pursuit of the prisoner.
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