plete cessation
of the supply of blood to the brain; but with these physiological
refinements I thought it needlessly cruel to distract a man in his
peculiar position. Perhaps I shall be doing injustice to my own
intellect if I do not hasten to state that I had not the remotest belief
in the efficacy of my plan for any purpose except to extricate me from a
very uncomfortable position.

On the morning of the day before the execution, I made ready everything
that I could possibly need. So far our plans, or rather mine, had worked
to a marvel. Certain of File's old accomplices succeeded in bribing the
hangman to shorten the time of suspension. Arrangements were made also
to secure me two hours alone with the prisoner, so that nothing seemed
to be wanting. I had assured File that I would not see him again
previous to the operation, but during the morning I was seized with a
feverish impatience, which luckily prompted me to visit him once more.
As usual, I was admitted readily, and nearly reached his cell, when I
became aware from the sound of voices heard through the grating in the
door that there was a visitor in the cell. "Who is with him?" I inquired
of the warden.

"The doctor," he replied.

"Doctor?" I said. "What doctor?"

"O, the jail physician," he returned. "I was to come back in half an
hour and let him out; but he's got a quarter to stay as yet. Shall I
admit you, or will you wait?"

"No," I replied. "It is hardly right to interrupt them. I will walk in
the corridor for ten minutes or so, and then you can send the turnkey to
let me in."

"Very good," he returned, and left me.

As soon as I was alone, I cautiously advanced up the entry, and stood
alongside of the door, through the barred grating of which I was able
readily to hear what went on within. The first words I caught were
these:--

"And you tell me, Doctor, that, even if a man's windpipe was open, the
hanging would kill him,--are you sure?"

"Yes," returned the other, "I believe there would be no doubt of it. I
cannot see how escape would be possible; but let me ask you," he went on
more gravely, "why you have sent for me to ask all these singular
questions. You cannot have the faintest hope of escape, and least of all
in such a manner as this. I advise you to think rather on the fate which
is inevitable. You must, I fear, have much to reflect upon."

"But," said File, "if I wanted to try this plan of mine, couldn't some
one be found to help