We moved always with bare feet, carrying the stuff in our pillow
cases. When I consider how many slight accidents might have marred
our work and utterly undone us, I can not but think that we were in
some sort watched over by Providence. Our life aboard ship had made
us sure footed; but that we were able to work for weeks without
betraying ourselves by a sound or the neglect of some precaution I
ascribe to something higher than ourselves.
To come to an end of this part of my story, after several weeks'
work at the rubble we once more encountered stone. Before attacking
this, we waited for a night or two. We no longer had any fear of
the slabs of the battlement falling; the cement was clearly strong
enough to bear the weight of the passing sentry; but I had some
apprehension that as he tramped along the man might discover the
hollowness below him by the ringing of his feet on the stones. But
two nights sufficed to banish this fear also, and then we started
eagerly on the last portion of our task.
The flight of time passes almost unnoticed when the moments are
well filled. Winter had given place to spring, and spring was now
merging into summer. We had no almanac, and kept no account of the
days; it was by the lengthening daylight and shortening darkness
and the new warmth in the air that we knew summer was at hand. The
long nights of winter would perhaps have been more favorable to our
escape, but, on the other hand, we should suffer more from
exposure, and moreover, I fancy no man is ever so brave in cold
weather as in warm.
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