The Broad Highway - Page 359/374

"A cold chisel and hammer will be quickest," said I; "come, cut

me off this chain--here, close up to the rivets." And, when he

had done this, I took his file, and thrusting it beneath my coat,

set off, running my hardest, leaving him to stare after me, with

his eyes and mouth wider than ever.

The sun was down when I reached the woods, and here, in the kind

shadows, I stayed awhile to rest, and rid myself of my handcuffs;

but, when I felt for the file to do so--it was gone.