eliverance in reservation; so I
sat apart by myself, and I spent the night in inward thanksgiving for
what had been already done. Nor was this confidence long without its
reward.

In the morning a brother of one of my fellow-sufferers coming to condole
with him, it being generally reported that we were all doomed to die, he
happened to see the bar lying on the street, and, taking it up, hid it
till he had gone into a shop and provided himself with a cord. He then
hastened to us, gave us the cord, and making what speed he could,
brought the iron in his plaid; and, we having lowered the string from
the window, he fastened the bar to it, and we drew it up undiscovered,
and reset it in its place, by which the defect could not be seen by any
one, not even from the street.

That morning, by the providence which was visible in this, became, in
our prison, a season indeed of light and gratulation; and the day passed
with us as a Sabbath to our spirits. The anvils of Fear were hushed, and
the shuttles in the looms of Anxiety were at rest, while Hope again
walked abroad in those sunny fields where, amidst vernal blossoms and
shining dews, she expatiates on the delights of the flowing cluster and
the ripened fruit.

The young man, who had been so guided to find the bar of iron, concerted
with another friend of his to be in readiness at night on a signal from
us, to master the sentinel. And at the time appointed they did so; and
it happened that the soldier was the same humane Englisher, Jack
Windsor, who had allowed me to escape at Kilmarnock, and he not only
remained silent, but even when relieved from his post, said nothing; so
that, to the number of more than twenty, we lowered ourselves into the
street and escaped.

But the city gates at that hour being shut, there was no egress from the
town, and many of us knew not where to hide ourselves till the morning.
Such was my condition; and wandering up and down for some time, at last
I turned into the Blackfriars-wynd, where I saw a light in a window: on
looking around I beheld, by that light, engraven on the lintel of an
opposite door, "IN THE LORD IS MY HOPE."

Heartened by the singular providence that was so manifest in that
cheering text, I went to the door and knocked, and a maiden answered to
the knocking.

I told her what I was, and whence I had come, and entreated her to have
compassion, and shelter me for the night.

"Alas!" said she, "what can hae sent you here,