skylight together.

Casanova let down his companion through the skylight by the cord, and
found that the floor was so far away that he himself dared not risk the
leap. And though the cord was still in his hands, he had nowhere to
fasten it. The monk, inside, could give him no help--and, not knowing
what to do, he set out on another voyage of discovery.

It was successful, for in a part of the roof which he had not yet
visited he found a ladder left by some workmen, and long enough for his
purpose. Indeed, it seemed likely to be too long, for when he tried to
introduce it into the skylight, it only entered as far as the sixth
round, and then was stopped by the roof. However, with a superhuman
effort Casanova, hanging to the roof, below the skylight, managed to
lift the other end of the ladder, nearly, in the action, flinging
himself down into the canal. But he had succeeded in forcing the ladder
farther in, and the rest was comparatively easy. He climbed up again to
the skylight, lowered the ladder, and in another moment was standing by
his companion's side.

They found themselves in a garret opening into another room, well barred
and bolted. But just then Casanova was past all exertion. He flung
himself on the ground, the packet of cord under his head, and fell into
a sleep of utter exhaustion. It was dawn when he was roused at last by
the monk's despairing efforts. For two hours the latter had been shaking
him, and even shouting in his ears, without the slightest effect!

Casanova rose, saying:

'This place must have a way out. Let us break everything--there is no
time to lose!'

They found, at last, a door, of which Casanova's tool forced the lock,
and which led them into the room containing the archives or records of
the Venetian Republic. From this they descended a staircase, then
another, and so made their way into the chancellor's office. Here
Casanova found a tool which secretaries used to pierce parchment, and
which was some little help to them--for he found it impossible to force
the lock of the door through which they had next to part, and the only
way was to break a hole in it. Casanova set to work at the part of the
door that looked most likely to yield, while his companion did what he
could with the secretary's instrument--they pushed, rent, tore the wood;
the noise that they made was alarming, but they were compelled to risk
it. In half an hour they had made a hole large enough to get through.
The m