When the gaoler and his assistant had retired and
shoved in the outside bolts, Jack lit his candle and a cigarette,
feeling almost happy. He surveyed the premises now with more care. The
bed was of iron and fastened to the floor. On the top of it was a
mattress, a pillow, and a pair of blankets. At its head a little
triangular shelf of rock had been left in the corner, and on this
reposed a basin of tin, while a coarse piece of sacking took the place
of a towel. Jack threw off his overcoat and flung it on the bed,
intent on a satisfactory wash. He heard something jingle in the
pockets, and forgetting for the moment what it could possibly be,
thrust his hand in, and pulled out a glass-stoppered bottle of ozak.
He held it out at arm's length, and stared at it for some moments like
a man hypnotized.
"Holy Saint Peter!" he cried, "to think that I should have forgotten
this!"
He filled the tin basin with water, and placed it on the table. Again
he dissolved a minute portion of the chemical, and again filled the
syringe.
"I must leave no marks on the wall that may arouse attention," he
said, and taking the full syringe to the arch over the torrent, and
placing the candle on the floor beside him, he gently pushed in the
piston. The spray struck the rock, and the rock dissolved slightly but
perceptibly. Coming back to the table he stood for a few minutes in
deep thought. Although the cot bed was fixed to the floor, and
although it was possible that the shelf in the next cell coincided
with its position, the risk of discovery was too great to cut a
passage between the two cells there.
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