Page:Under three flags; a story of mystery (IA underthreeflagss00tayliala).pdf/287

 peace with heaven, and to-morrow I will show these Spanish gentry how an American can die—when he gets ready," he adds, under his breath, as the iron door clangs to and he is once more alone.

CHAPTER L.

AT BAY IN THE CHURCH OF SAN PEDRO.

As the echo of Father Hilario's footsteps dies away adown [*typo for down?] the gloomy corridor Ashley glances at his watch. It lacks a quarter of two o'clock.

"The trick must be done within two hours, or all is lost," he mutters. Then he extinguishes the light and throws himself down upon the pallet of straw.

Ten, fifteen minutes pass. The tread of the carcelero on his rounds sounds from the corridor and a light is flashed into the cell. A counterfeit snore from Ashley greets him and he passes on with a muttered "Dios! He sleeps as if to-morrow were his wedding day." In five minutes, his round of inspection completed, he repasses the cell door and continues on, until silence again enshrouds the prison.

Then Ashley arises, takes out his jack-knife and opens one of the blades, a finely tempered steel saw.

"Thank heaven for that much Yankee inventiveness!" he murmurs, as he sinks on one knee beside the iron door of his cell and applies the saw blade to the lower end of one of the rusty bars.

As the steel slowly but surely eats its way into the corroded iron and finally slips entirely through, Ashley again, aided by a match, consults his watch. It is nearly three o'clock. Scarcely had he extinguished the lucifer than the approach of the carcelero is heard, and he retreats to his pallet, to again feign an audible slumber.

All still once more, and he attacks the upper end of the bar. When almost severed he seizes it with both