Of my Incarceration in the Jug
in watch and prayer, lest I enter into temptation.”
At the sound of this he pulled up and surveyed me with solemnity. “Aye,” says he, “Ryder, fall to your prayers, for thou shalt be hanged as high as Haman afore breakfast.”
“Leave me, then,” says I, “and take those pipkins with you, for what has a poor devil like me to do with mortal pleasures?”
“True,” he stutters. “There’s no further use in them for you, and as ’tis a pity to despise the kindly creatures of God, I will e’en put up with them myself.”
So saying, and hugging the remnant of the dozen to his breast, he staggered to the door, which, being unlocked from without, was once more closed upon me. You may imagine that it was not long before I had forth my particular flask, and fetched out of its inwards a sharp file and a short whittle. With the former I set to work forthwith, and after three hours’ hard labour had eaten well through the irons. After which, concealing the knife about me, I lay back and slept sound.
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