steadily worse, while the chill of my wet clothes seemed to eat into
my bones. Once or twice I got up and crawled a few yards backwards and
forwards, but the little additional warmth this performance gave me
did not last long. I dared not indulge in any more violent exercise
for fear that there might be warders about in the wood.

What really saved me, I think, was the rain stopping. It came to an
end quite suddenly, in the usual Dartmoor fashion, and within half an
hour most of the mist had cleared off too. I knew enough of the local
weather signs to be pretty certain that we were in for a fine night;
and sure enough, half an hour after the sun had set a large moon was
shining down from a practically cloudless sky.

From where I was lying I could, by raising my head, just see the
two top windows of the house. About ten, as near as I could judge,
somebody lit a candle in one of these rooms, and then coming to the
window drew down the blind. I waited patiently till I saw this dull
glimmer of light disappear, then, with a not unpleasant throb of
excitement, I crawled out from my hiding-place and recrossed the grass
to my former point of observation. Very gingerly I lifted myself up
and peered over the top of the paling. The yard was in shadow, and so
far as I could see the back door and all the various outbuildings were
locked up for the night.

Under ordinary circumstances I could have cleared that blessed paling
in about thirty seconds, but in my present state of exhaustion it
proved to be no easy matter. However, with a mighty effort I at last
succeeded in getting my right elbow on the top, and from that point I
managed to scramble up and hoist myself over. Then, keeping a watchful
eye on the windows, I advanced towards the garage.

I found the key first shot. It was resting on a little ledge under the
roof, and a thrill of joy went through me as my fingers closed over
it. I pushed it into the keyhole, and very carefully I turned the
lock.

It was quite dark inside, but I could just see the outline of the
overalls hanging on the nail. I unhooked them, and placing the coat on
the ground I drew on the oily trousers over my convict breeches
and stockings. I could tell by the feel that they covered me up
completely.

As I picked up the coat something rattled in one of the side pockets.
I put my hand in and pulled out a box of wax matches, which despite
the dampness of the garment still seemed dry enough to strike.