Chapter 28 Part 1 of the Memoirs of Jacques Casanova, Volume 2. The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova, Volume 2. Chapter 28 Part 1. The Subterranean Prisons, Known as the Wells. Lawrence's Vengeance. I enter into a correspondence with another prisoner, Father Baldy. This character, I plan with him a means of escape, how I can try to let him have my pike. I am given a scoundrelly companion his portrait. I was thus anxious and despairing when two of the guards brought me my dead. They went back to fetch the rest of my belongings, and for two hours I saw no one, although the door of my cell remained open. This unnatural delay engendered my thoughts, but I could not fix exactly on the reason of it. I only knew that I had everything to fear, and this knowledge made me brace up my mind, so that I should be able to meet calmly all possible misfortunes. Besides the Leeds and the Fours, the state inquisitors also possess certain horrible subterranean cells beneath the Dupal Palace, where are sent men whom they do not wish to put to death, though they be thought worthy of it. These subterranean prisons are precisely like tombs, but they call them wells because they always contain two feet of water, which penetrates from the sea by the same grating by which light is given, this grating being only a square foot in size. If the unfortunate's condemned to live in these sewers do not wish to take a bath of filthy water, they have to remain all day seated on a trestle, which serves them both for bed and cupboard. In the morning they are given a pitcher of water, some thin soup, and a ration of army bread, which they have to eat immediately, for it becomes the prey of the enormous water rats who swarm in those dreadful abodes. Usually the wretches condemned to the wells are imprisoned there for life, and there have been prisoners who have attained a great age. A villain who died whilst I was under the Leeds had passed thirty-seven years in the wells, and he was forty-four when sentenced. Knowing that he deserved death, it is possible that he took his imprisonment as a favor, for there are men who fear not save death. His name was Begueline, a Frenchman by birth. He had served in the Venetian army during the last war against the Turks in 1716 under the command of Field Marshal the Count of Shulunborg, who made the Grand Vizier raise the siege of Corfu. This Begueline was the Marshal's spy. He disguised himself as a Turk, and penetrated into the Muslman quarters, but at the same time he was also in the service of the Grand Vizier, and being detected in this course he certainly had reason to be thankful for being allowed to die in the wells. The rest of his life must have been divided between weariness and hunger, but no doubt he often said, Dumbita superest venet est. I have seen Spielberg in Moravia, prisons fearful in another way. Their mercy sends the prisoners under sentence of death, and not one of them ever survives a year of imprisonment. What mercy? During the two mortal hours of suspense, full of somber thoughts and the most melancholy ideas, I could not help fancying that I was going to be plunged in one of these horrible dens where the wretched inhabitants feed on idle folks who become the prey of panic fears. The tribunal might well send him to hell, who had endeavored to escape from purgatory. Last I heard hurried steps, and I soon saw Lawrence standing before me, transformed with rage, foaming at the mouth, and blasoming God and his saints. He began by ordering me to give him the hatchet and the tools I had used to pierce the floor, and to tell him from which of the guards I had got the tools. Without moving, and quite calmly, I told him that I did not know what he was talking about. At this reply he gave orders that I should be searched, but rising with a determined air, I shook my fist at the knaves, and having taken off my clothes, I said to them, Do your duty, but let no one touch me. They searched my mattress, turned my bed inside out, felt the cushions of my armchair and found nothing. You won't tell me, then, where are the instruments with which you made the hole? It's of no matter, as we shall find a way to make you speak. If it be true that I made a hole at all, I shall say that you gave me the tools, and that I have returned them to you. This threat, which made his followers smile with glee, probably because he had been abusing them, he stamped his feet, tore his hair, and went out like one possessed. The guards returned and brought me all my properties, the whetstone and the lamp except.  I thus found myself confined in a narrow space without the possibility of receiving the least breath of air from any quarter. Nevertheless, my situation did not disturb me to any great extent. As I must confess, I thought I had got off cheaply. In spite of his training, Lawrence had not thought of turning the armchair over, and thus finding myself still possessor of the iron bar, I thanked Providence and thought myself still at liberty to regard the bar as means by which, sooner or later, I should make my escape. I passed a sleepless night as much from the heat as the change in my prospects. At daybreak, Lawrence came and brought some insufferable wine and some water I should not have cared to drink. All the rest was of a piece, dry salad, putrid meat, and bread harder than English biscuit. He cleaned nothing, and when I asked him to open the windows, he seemed not to hear me. The guard, armed with an iron bar, began to sound all over my room, against the wall, on the floor, and above all, under my bed. I looked on with an unmoved expression, but it did not escape my notice that the guard did not sound the ceiling. That way, said I to myself, will lead me out of this place of torments. But for any such project to succeed, I should have to depend purely on chance, for all my operations would leave visible traces. The cell was quite new, and the least scratch would have attracted the notice of my keepers. I passed a terrible day, for the heat was like that of a furnace, and I was quite unable to make any use of the food with which I had been provided. The perspiration and lack of nourishment made me so weak that I could neither walk nor read. Next day my dinner was the same.   He locked the door and went out without a word. On the third day I was treated in the same manner. I asked for a pencil and paper to write to the secretary. Still no answer. In despair, I ate my soup, and then, soaking my bread in a little cypress wine, I resolved to get strength to avenge myself on Lawrence by plunging my pike into his throat. My rage told me that I had no other course, but I grew calmer in the night. And in the morning, when the scoundrel appeared, I contended myself with saying that I would kill him as soon as I was at liberty. He only laughed at my threat, and again went out without opening his lips. I began to think that he was acting under orders from the secretary, to whom he must have told all. I knew not what to do. I strove between patience and despair. It felt as if I were dying for a want of food. At last on the eighth day, with rage in my heart and a voice of thunder, I bade him under the name of Hangman, and the presence of the archers give me an account of my money. He answered dryly that I should have it the next day. Then as he was about to go, I took my bucket, and made as if I would go and empty it in the passage. For seeing my design, he told the guard to take it, and during a disgusting operation, opened a window, which he shut as soon as the affair was done, so that in spite of my women's fronts, as I was left in the plague-stricken atmosphere, I determined to speak to him still worse the next day. But as soon as he appeared, my anger cooled. For before giving me the account of my money, he presented me with a basket of lemons, which Monsieur de Bregadine had sent me, also a large bottle of water, which seemed drinkable, and a nice roasted fowl. And besides this, one of the guards opened the two windows. When he gave me the account, I only looked at the sum total, and I told him to give the balance to his wife, with the exception of a sequin, which I told him to give the guards who were with him. I thus made friends with these fellows who thanked me heartily. Lawrence, who remained alone with me on purpose, spoke as follows. You have already told me, sir, that I myself furnished you with the tools to make that enormous hole, and I will ask no more about it. Would you kindly tell me where you get the materials to make a lamp from you? Well, for the moment, sir, I'm dashed, for I did not think that wit meant impudence. I'm not telling you any lies. You it was, who with your own hands gave me all the requisites of oil, slant, and matches, the rest I had by me. You are right. But can you show me as simply that I gave you the tools to make that hole? Certainly, for you are the only person who has given me anything. Lord, have mercy upon me. What do I hear? Tell me, then, how I gave you a hatchet. I will tell you the whole story, and I will speak the truth, but only in the presence of the secretary. I don't wish to know any more, and I believe everything you say. I only ask you to say nothing about it, as I am a poor man with a family to provide for. He went out with his head between his hands. I congratulated myself heartily on having found a way to make the rascal afraid of me. He thought that I knew enough to hang him. I saw that his own interests would keep him from saying anything to his superiors about the matter. I had told Lawrence to bring me the works of my thing, but the expense displeased him, though he did not dare to say so. He asked me what I could want with books with so many to my hand. I read them all, I said, and I want some fresh ones. I will get someone who is here to lend you his books. If you will lend yours in return, thus you will save your money. Perhaps the books are romances for which I do not care. They're scientific works, and if you think yours is the only longhead here, you are very much mistaken. Very good, we shall see. I will lend this book to the longhead, and do you bring me one from him. I'd given him Patau's Resionarium, and in four minutes he brought me the first volume of Wolf's works. Well pleased with it, I told him, much to his delight, that I would do without my thing. Less pleased with the learned reading than at the opportunity to begin a correspondence with someone who might help me in my plan of escape, which I had already sketched out in my head. I opened the book as soon as Lawrence was gone, and was overjoyed to find on one of the leaves the maximum of Seneca. Calamitosis es tanimus vutuiti ansius, paraphrased in six elegant verses. I made another six on the spot, and this is the way in which I contrived to write them. I had let the nail in my little finger grow long to serve as an ear pick. I outed to a point, and made a pen of it. I had no ink, and I was going to prick myself and write in my blood. When I'd be taught me that the juice of some mulberries I had by me would be an excellent substitute for ink. Besides the six verses, I wrote out a list of my books, and put it in the back of the same book. It must be understood that Italian books are generally bound in parchment, and in such a way that when the book is open, the back becomes a kind of pocket. On the title page I wrote La Tets. I was anxious to get an answer, so the next day I told Lawrence that I had read the book and wanted another, and in a few minutes the second volume was in my hands. As soon as I was alone, I opened the book and found a loose leaf of the following communication in Latin. Both of us are in the same prison, and to both of us it must be pleasant to find how the ignorance of our jailer procures us a privilege before unknown to such a place. I, Marin Baldy, who writes to you, am a Venetian of Heiberg and a regular cleric, and my companion is count André Asquin of Houdin, the capital of Rio. He begs me to inform you that all the books in his possession of which you will find a list at the back of this volume are at your service, but we warn you that we must use all possible care to prevent our correspondence being discovered by Lawrence. In our position there was nothing wonderful, and our both pitching on the idea of sending each other the catalogs of our small libraries, or in our choosing the same hiding place, the back of the books. All this was plain common sense, but the advice to be careful contained on the loose leaf struck me with some astonishment. The same next to impossible that Lawrence should leave the book unopened. But if he had opened it, he would have seen the leaf, and not knowing how to read, he would have kept it in his pocket, till he could get someone to tell him the contents, and thus all would have been strangled at its birth, and this made me think that my correspondent was an errant blockhead. After reading through the list, I wrote who I was, how I had been arrested, my ignorance as to what crime I had committed, and my hope of soon becoming free. Baldy then wrote me a letter of 16 pages, in which he gave me the history of all his misfortunes. He had been four years in prison, and the reason was that he had enjoyed the good graces of three girls, of whom he had three children, all of whom he baptized under his own name. The first time his superior had led him off with an admonition, the second time he was threatened with punishment, and on the third and last occasion he was imprisoned. The father superior of his convent brought him his dinner every day. He told me in his letter that both the superior and the tribunal were tyrants, since they had no lawful authority over his conscience. The being sure that the three children were his, he thought himself constrained as a man of honor, not to deprive them of the advantage of bearing his name. He finished by telling me that he had found himself obliged to recognize his children to prevent slander attributing them to others, which would have injured the reputation of the three honest girls who bore them. Besides, he could not stifle the voice of nature, which spoke so well on behalf of these little ones. His last words were, there is no danger of the superior falling into the same fault as he compines his attention to the voice. This letter made me know my man, eccentric, sensual, a bad logician, vicious, a fool, indiscreet, and ungrateful.  In society I should have nothing more to do with the man of his character, but under the leads I was obliged to put everything to some use. I found in the back of the book a pencil, pens, and paper, and I was thus unable to write at my ease. He told me also the history of the prisoners who were under the leads, and of those who had been there since his imprisonment. He said that the guard who secretly brought him whatever he wanted was called Nicholas. He also told me the names of the prisoners and what he knew about them, and to convince me he gave me the history of the hole I had made. It seems I had been taken from my cell to make room for the patrician, Prioli, and that Lawrence had taken two hours to repair the damage I had done, and that he had imparted the secret to the carpenter, the blacksmith, and all the guards under pain of death that they revealed it. In another day, the guard had said, Casanova would have escaped, and Lawrence would have swung, for though he pretended great astonishment when he saw the hole, there can be no doubt that he and no other provided the tools. This has told me, Ed, in my correspondence, that Monsieur de Bregadine has promised him a thousand sequins if he will aid you to make your escape, but that Lawrence, who knows of it, hopes to get the money without risking his neck, his plan being to obtain your liberty by means of the influence of his wife with Monsieur de Edou. None of the guards dared to speak of what happened for fear Lawrence might get himself out of the difficulty and take his revenge by having him dismissed. He begged me to tell him all the details and how I got the tools, and to count upon his keeping the secret. I had no doubts as to his curiosity, but many as to his discretion, and this very request showed him to be the most indiscreet of men. Nevertheless, I concluded that I must make use of him, for he seemed to me the kind of man to assist me in my escape. I began to write an answer to him, but a sudden suspicion made me keep back what I had written. I fancied that the correspondence might be a mere artifice of Lawrence's to find out who had given me the tools and what I had done with him. To satisfy him without compromising myself, I told him that I had made the hole with a strong knife in my possession, which I had placed on the window ledge in the passage. In less than three days, this false confidence of mine made me feel secure, as Lawrence did not go to the window, as he would certainly have done if the letter had been intercepted. Furthermore, Father Balby told me that he could understand how I might have a knife, as Lawrence had told him that I had not been searched previous to my imprisonment. Lawrence himself had received no orders to search me, and this circumstance might have stood him in good said if I had succeeded in escaping, as all prisoners handed over to him by the captain of the guard were supposed to have been searched already. On the other hand, Monsieur Grande might have said that, having seen me get out of my bed, he was sure that I had no weapons about me, and thus both of them would have got out of trouble. The monk ended by begging me to send in my knife by Nicholas, on whom I might rely. The monk's thoughtlessness seemed to me almost incredible. I wrote and told him that I was not at all inclined to put my trust in Nicholas, and that my secret was not one to be imparted in writing. However, I was amused by his letters, and one of them he told me why Count Asquin was kept under the leads, in spite of his helplessness, for he was enormously fat. And as he had a broken leg, which had been badly set, he could hardly put one foot before another. It seems that the Count, not being a very wealthy man, followed the profession of a barrister at Houdin, and in that capacity defended the country folk against the nobility, who wished to deprive the peasants of their vote in the assembly of the province. The claims of the farmers disturbed the public peace, and by way of bringing them to reason, the nobles had recourse to the state inquisitors, who ordered the Count Barrister to abandon his clients. Count replied that the municipal law authorized him to defend the Constitution, and would not give in. Whereon the inquisitors arrested him, law or no law, and for the last five years he had breathed the invigorating air of the leads. Like myself he had fifty sews a day, but he could do what he liked with the money. The monk, who was always penniless, told me a good deal of the disadvantage of the Count, whom he represented as very miserly. He informed me that in the cell on the other side of the hall there were two gentlemen of the seven townships who were likewise imprisoned for disobedience, but one of them had become that and was in chains. In another cell he said there were two lawyers. My suspicions quieted. I reasoned as follows. End of Chapter 28, Part 1, recording by Ron Martin. Chapter 28, Part 2 of the Memoirs of Jacques Casanova, Volume 2. This is the LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova, Volume 2. Paris and Prison by Jacques Casanova, translated by Arthur Matchin. Episode 10, Chapter 28, Part 2. I wish to regain my liberty at all hazards. My pike is an admirable instrument, but I can make no use of it as my cell is sounded all over except the ceiling every day. If I would escape, it is by the ceiling. Therefore, that way I must go. But to do that, I must make a hole through it, and that I cannot do for my side, for it would not be the work of a day. I must have someone to help me. And not having much choice, I had to pick out the monk. He was 38, and though not rich in common sense, I judged that the love of liberty, the first need of men, would give him sufficient courage to carry out any orders I might give. I must begin by telling him my plan in its entirety, and then I shall have to find a way to give him the bar. I had then two difficult problems before me. My first step was to ask him if he wished to be free, and if he were disposed to hazard all in attempting his escape in my company. He replied that his mate and he would do anything to break their chains. But, added he, it is of no use to break one's head against a stone wall. He filled four pages with the impossibilities which presented themselves to his feeble intellect, for the fellow saw no chance of success on any quarter. I replied that I did not trouble myself with general difficulties, and that informing my plan I had only thought of special difficulties, which I would find means to overcome. And I finished by giving him my word of honor to set him free, if he would promise to carry out exactly whatever orders I might give. He gave his promise to do so. I told him that I had a pike 20 inches long, and with this tool he must pierce the ceiling of his cell next to the wall which separated us. And he would then be above my head. His next step would be to make a hole in the ceiling of my cell and aid me to escape by it. Here your task will end, and mine will begin, and I will undertake to set both you and Count Asquin at liberty. He answered that when I had got out of my cell I should still be in prison, and our position would be the same as now, as we should only be in the garrets which were secured by three strong doors. I know that, Reverend Father, I replied, but we are not going to escape by the doors. My plan is complete, and I will guarantee its success. All I ask of you is to carry out my directions and to make no difficulties. Do you busy yourself to find some way of getting my bar without the knowledge of the gowler? In the meanwhile, make him get about you 40 pictures of saints, large enough to cover all the walls of your cell. Lawrence will suspect nothing, and they will do to conceal the opening you are to make in the ceiling. To do this will be the work of some days, and of mornings Lawrence will not see what you have done the day before, as you will have covered it up with one of the pictures. If you ask me why I do not undertake the work myself, I can only say that the gowler suspects me, and the objection will doubtless seem to you a weighty one. Although I had told him to think of a plan to get a hold of the pike, I had thought of nothing else myself, and had a happy thought which I hastened to put into execution. I told Lawrence to buy me a folial Bible, which had been published recently. It was the Vulgate with the Septuagint. I hoped to be able to put the pike in the back of the binding of the book. I found the tool to be two inches longer. My correspondent had written to tell me that his cell was covered with pictures, and I communicated him my idea about the Bible and the difficulty presented by its want of length. Happy at being able to display his genius, he railed me on the poverty of my imagination, telling me that I had only to send him the pike wrapped up in my foxkin cloak. Lawrence, said he, had often talked about your cloak, and Count Asquin would arouse no suspicion by asking to see it in order to buy one of the same kind.  Lawrence would never dream of unfolding it. I, on the other hand, was sure that he would, in the first place, because a cloak folded up is more troublesome to carry than when it is unfolded. However, not to rebuff him, and at the same time to show him that I was the wiser, I wrote that he had only to send for the cloak. The next day, Lawrence asked me for it, and I gave it folded up, but without the bar. And in a quarter of an hour, he brought it back to me, saying that the gentleman had admired it very much. The monk wrote me a dullful letter in which he confessed that he had given me a piece of bad advice, adding that I was wrong to follow it. According to him, the pike was lost, as Lawrence had brought in the cloak all unfolded. After this, all hope was gone. I undeceived him and begged him for the future to be a little bit more sparing of his advice. It was necessary to bring the matters to a head, and I determined to send him the bar under the cover of my Bible, taking measures to prevent the gowler from seeing the ends of the great volume. My scheme was as follows. I told Lawrence that I wanted to celebrate St. Michael's Day with a macaroni cheese, but wishing to show my gratitude to the person who had kindly let me his books. I would like to make him a large dish of it and prepare it with my own hands. Lawrence told me, as had been arranged between the monk and myself, that the gentleman in question wished to read the large book which cost three sequins. Very good, said I.  He promised to do what I asked him. I wrapped up the pike in paper and put it in the back of the Bible, taking care that it projected an equal distance on each end. Now, if I placed on the Bible a great dish of macaroni, full of melted butter, I was quite sure that Lawrence would not examine the ends. All his gaze would be concentrated upon the plate to avoid spilling the grease on the book. I told Father Balby of my plan, charging him to take care how he took the dish, and above all, to take the dish and Bible together, not one by one. On the day appointed, Lawrence came earlier than usual, carrying a saucepan full of boiling macaroni and all the necessary ingredients for seasoning the dish. I melted a quantity of butter, and after putting the macaroni into the dish, I poured the butter over it till it was full to the brim. The dish was a huge one, and was much larger than the book on which I placed it. I did all this at the door of my cell, Lawrence being outside. When I was ready, I carefully took up the Bible and dish, placing the back of the book next to the bearer, and told Lawrence to stretch out his arms and take it, to be careful not to spill the grease over the book, and to carry the hole to its destination immediately. As I gave him this weighty load, I kept my eyes fixed on his, and I saw to my joy that he did not take his gaze off the butter, which he was afraid of spilling. He said it would be better to take the dish first, and then to come back for the book. But I told him that that would spoil the present, and that both must go together. He then complained that I had put too much butter, and said jokingly that if it was spilt, he would not be responsible for the loss. As soon as I saw the Bible in the lout's arms, I was certain of success, as he could not see the ends of the pike without twisting his head. And I saw no reason why he should divert his gaze on the plate, which he had enough to do to carry evenly. I followed him with my eyes till he disappeared into the anti-chamber of the monk's cell, and he, blowing his nose three times, gave me the prearranged signal that all was right, which was confirmed by the appearance of Lawrence in a few moments afterwards. Father Balby lost no time in setting about the work, and in eight days he succeeded in making a large enough opening in the ceiling, which he covered with the picture pasted to the ceiling with breadcrumbs. On the eighth of October he wrote to say that he had passed the whole night in working at the partition wall, and had only succeeded in loosening one brick. He told me the difficulty of separating the bricks joined one another by a strong cement was enormous, but he promised to persevere, though he said, we shall only make our position worse than it is now. I told him that I was certain of success, that he must believe in me and persevere. Alas, I was certain of nothing, but I had to speak thus or to give up all. I was feigned to escape from this hell on earth, where I was imprisoned by a most detestable tyranny, and I thought only affording this end with the resolve to succeed, or at all events not to stop before I came to a difficulty which was unsurmountable. I had read in the great book of experience that an important scheme's action is the grand requisite and the rest might be left to fortune. If I had entrusted Father Balby with these deep mysteries of moral philosophy, he would have pronounced me a madman. His work was only toilsome on the first night, for the more he worked the easier it became, and when he had finished he found he had taken out 36 bricks. On the 16th of October, as I was engaged in translating an ode of Horus, I heard a trampling noise above my head, and then three light blows were struck. This was the signal agreed upon to assures that our calculations were correct. He worked till the evening, and the next day he wrote that if the roof of my ceiling was only two boards thick, his work would be finished that day. He assured me that he was carefully making the whole round as I had charged him, and that he would not pierce the ceiling. This was a vital point, as the slightest mark would have led to discovery. The final touch, he said, will only take a quarter of an hour. I had fixed on the day after the next to escape from my cell at nighttime to enter no more. For with a mate, I was quite sure that I could make in two or three hours a hole in the roof of the Ducal Palace, and once on the outside of the roof, I would trust the chance for the means of getting to the ground. I had not yet got so far as this, for my bad luck had more than one obstacle in store for me. On the same day, it was a Monday, at two o'clock in the afternoon, Will's father, Balby, was at work. I heard the door of the hall being opened. My blood ran cold, but I had sufficient presence of mind to knock twice the signal of alarm, at which it had been agreed that father Balby was to make haste back to his cell and set all in order. In less than a minute afterwards, Lawrence opened the door and begged my pardon for giving me a very unpleasant companion.  While I was looking at him, he was unbound by two guards. I had no reason to doubt that he was a nave since Lawrence told me so before his face without displaying the slightest emotion. The court, I said, can do what seems good to it. After Lawrence had brought him a bed and told him that the court allowed him to ensue a day and then locked us up together. Overwhelmed by this disaster, I glanced at the fellow, whom his every feature proclaimed rogue. I was about to speak to him when he began by thanking me for having got him a bed. Wishing to gain him over, I invited him to take his meals with me. He kissed my hand and asked me if he would still be able to claim the 10 sues with the court allowed him. On my answering in the affirmative, he fell on his knees and drawing an enormous rosary from his pocket, he cast his gaze all around the cell. What do you want? You will pardon me, sir, but I am looking for some statue of the Holy Virgin, for I am a Christian. If there were even a small crucifix, it would be something, for I have not been in so much need of the protection of St. Francis de Assisi, whose name I bear, though all unworthy. I could scarcely help laughing, not at his Christian piety, since faith and conscience are beyond control, but at the curious turn he gave his remonstrance. I concluded he took me for a Jew and to disabuse him of this notion I made haste to give him the hours of the Holy Virgin, whose picture he kissed and then gave me the book back, telling me in a modest voice that his father, a galley officer, had neglected to have him talk to read. I am, said he, a devotee of the Holy Rosary, and he told me a host of miracles to which I listened with the patience of an angel. When he had come to an end, I asked him if he had had his dinner, and he replied that he was dying of hunger. I gave him everything I had, which he devoured rather than ate, drinking all my wine, and then becoming maudlin as he began to weep, and finally to talk without rhyme or reason. I asked him how he got into trouble, and he gave me the following story. My aim, and my only aim, has always been the glory of God and of the Holy Republic of Venice, and that its laws might be exactly obeyed, always lending an attentive ear to the plots of the wicked, whose end is to deceive, to deprive their prince of his just dues, and to conspire secretly. I have over and again unveiled their secret plans and have not failed to report to Monsieur Grande all I know. It is true that I am always paid, but the money has never given me so much pleasure as the thought that I have been able to serve the blessed Saint Mark. I have always despised those who think that there is something dishonorable in the business of a spy. The word sounds ill only to the ill affected, for a spy is a lover of the state, the scourge of the guilty, and the faithful subject of his prince. When I have been put to the test, the feeling of friendship, which might count for something with other men, has never had the slightest influence over me, and still less the sentiment, which is called gratitude. I have often, in order to worm out a secret, sworn to be as silent as the grave, and have never failed to reveal it. Indeed, I am able to do so with full confidence, as my director, who is a good Jesuit, has told me that I may lawfully reveal such secrets, not only because my intention was to do so, but because when the safety of the state is at stake, there is no such thing as a binding oath. I must confess that in my zeal, I have betrayed my own father, and that in me the promptings of our weak nature have been quite mortified. Three weeks ago I observed that there was a kind of cabal between four or five notables of the town of Isola, where I live. I knew them to be disaffected to the government on account of certain contraband articles which had been confiscated. The first chaplain, a subject of Austria by birth, was in on the plot. They gathered together of evenings in an inn, in a room where there was a bed, where they drank and talked, and afterwards went their ways. As I was determined to discover the conspiracy, I was brave enough to hide under the bed on a day on which I was sure I would not be seen. Towards the evening, my gentleman came over and began to talk, amongst other things. They said that the town of Isola was not within the jurisdiction of St. Mark, but rather in the principality of Trieste, as it could not possibly be considered to form a part of the Venetian territory. The chaplain said to the chief of the plot, a man named Pietro Paolo, that if he and the others were to sign a document to that effect, he himself would go to the imperial ambassador and that the empress would not only take possession of the island, but would reward them for what they had done. They all profess themselves ready to go on, and the chaplain promised to bring the document the next day and afterwards to take it to the ambassadors. I determined to frustrate this detestable project, although one of the conspirators was my gossip, a spiritual relationship which gave him a greater claim on me than if he had been my own brother. After they were gone, I came out of my hiding place and did not think it necessary to expose myself to danger by hiding again as I had found out sufficient for my purpose. I set out the same night in a boat and reached here the next day before noon. I had the names of the six rebels written down and I took the paper to my secretary of the tribunal, telling him all I had heard. He ordered me to appear the day following at the palace and an agent of the government should go back with me to Isola that I might point the chaplain out to him as he had probably not yet gone to the Austrian ambassadors. That done, said the Lord secretary, you will no longer meddle in the matter. I executed his orders and after having shown the chaplain to the agent, I was at leisure for my own affairs. After dinner, my gossip called me in to shave him for I am a barber by profession. And after I had done so, he gave me a capital glass or a fosco with some slices of sausage and we ate together in all good fellowship. My love for him had still possession of my soul so I took his hand and shedding some heartfelt tears. I advised him to have no more to do with the cannon and above all, not to sign the document he knew of. He protested that he was no particular friend of the chaplains and swore that he did not know what document I was talking about. I burst into a laugh telling him it was only my joke and went forth very sorry at having yielded to a sentiment of affection which made me commit so grievous a fault. The next day I saw neither the man nor the chaplain. A week after having paid a visit to the palace, I was properly imprisoned and here I am with you, my dear sir. I thank from St. Francis for having given me the company of a good Christian who is here for reasons of which I desire to know nothing for I am not curious. My name is Sora Daki and my wife is a Lengbrindzi daughter of a secretary to the council of 10 who in spite of all prejudice to the contrary determined to marry me. She will be in despair not knowing what had become of me but I hope to be here only for a few days since the only reason of my imprisonment is that the secretary wishes to be able to examine me more conveniently. I shuddered to think of the monster who was with me but feeling that the situation was a risky one and that I should have to make use of him. I compassionate him, praised his patriotism and predicted that he would be set at liberty in a few days. A few minutes after he fell asleep and I took the opportunity of telling the whole story to Father Balby showing him that we should be obliged to put off our work to a more convenient season. Next day I told Lawrence to buy me a wooden crucifix a statue of our lady, a portrait of St. Francis and two bottles of holy water. Sora Daki asked for his Tensu and Lawrence with an air of contempt gave him 20. I asked Lawrence to buy me four times the usual amount of garlic, wine and salt a diet in which my hateful companion delighted. After the gala was gone I definitely drew out the letter Balby had written me and in which he drew a vivid picture of his alarm. He thought all was lost and over and over again thanked heaven that Lawrence had put Sarduki into my cell. For, said he, if he had come into mine he would not have found me there and we should possibly have shared a cell in the wells as a reward for our endeavors. Sora Daki's tale had satisfied me that he was only imprisoned to be examined as it seemed plain that the secretary had arrested him on suspicion of bearing false witness. I thereupon resolved to entrust him with two letters which would do me neither harm nor good if they were delivered to their addresses but which would be beneficial to me if the trader gave them to the secretary as a proof of his loyalty as I had not the slightest doubt he would do. I spent two hours writing these two letters in pencil. Next day Lawrence brought me the crucifix the two pictures in the holy water and having worked the rascal well up to a point I said, I reckon upon your friendship and your courage here are two letters I want you to deliver when you recover your liberty. My happiness depends on your loyalty but you must hide the letters as they were found upon you we should both of us be undone. We must swear by the crucifix and these holy pictures not betray me.  This speech was followed by much weeping and lamentation. He called himself unhappy wretch of being suspected of treason toward a man for whom he would give his life. I knew my man but I played out the comedy. Having given him a shirt and a cap I stood up bareheaded and then having sprinkled the cell with holy water and plentifully bedowed him with the same liquid. I made him swear a dreadful oath and stuffed with senseless implications for that very reason were the better fitted to strike terror to his soul. After his having sworn the oath to deliver my letters to their addresses I gave him them and he himself proposed to sew them up at the back of his waistcoat between the stuffing and the lining to which proceedings I assented. I was morally sure that he would deliver my letters to the secretary at the first opportunity so I took the utmost care with my style of writing should not discover the trick they could only gain me the esteem of the court and possibly its mercy. One of the letters was addressed to Monsieur de Bragedin and the other to Abbe Grimani and I told them to not be anxious about me as I wasn't good hopes of soon being set free at liberty that they would find when I came out of my imprisonment had done me more good than harm as there was no one in Venice who stood in need of reform more than I. I begged Monsieur de Bragedin to be kind enough to send me a pair of fur boots for the winter as my cell was high enough for me to stand upright and to walk up and down. I took care that Soredacci should not suspect the innocent nature of these letters as he might then have been seized with the temptation to do an honest thing for me and have delivered them which was not what I was aiming for. You will see, dear readers, in the following chapter the power of oaths over the vile soul of my odious companion and also, if I have not verified the saying in Vino Verletas, for in the story he told me the wretch had shown himself in his true colors. End of Chapter 28, Part 2 Memoirs of Jacques Casanova, Volume 2, Paris and Prison by Giacomo Casanova translated by Arthur Machen Episode 10, Chapter 29 Treason of Soredacci How I get the best of him Father Balbi ends his work I escape from my cell Unseasonable observations of counter-skin The critical moment Soredacci had had my letters for two or three days when Lawrence came one afternoon to take him to the secretary as he was several hours away I hoped to see his face no more but to my great astonishment he was brought back in the evening. As soon as Lawrence had gone he told me that the secretary suspected him of having warned the chaplain since that individual had never been near the ambassadors and no document of any kind was found upon him. He added that after a long examination he had been confined in a very small cell and was then bound and brought again before the secretary who wanted him to confess that he told someone at Isola that the priest would never return but that he had not done so as he had said no such thing. At last the secretary got tired, called the guards and had him brought back to my cell. I was distressed to hear his account as I saw that the wretch would probably remain a long time in my company. Having to inform Father Balbi of this fatal misadventure I wrote to him during the night and being obliged to do so more than once I got accustomed to write correctly enough in the dark. On the next day to assure myself that my suspicions were well founded I told the spy to give me the letter I had written to Monsieur de Bragedin as I wanted to add something to it. You can sew it up afterwards said I. It would be dangerous, he replied, as the galer might come in the meantime and then we should both be ruined. No matter, give me my letters. Thereupon the hound threw himself at my feet and swore that on his appearing for a second time before the dreaded secretary he had been seized with severe trembling and that he had felt in his back, especially in the place where the letters were, so intolerable in oppression that the secretary had asked him the cause and that he had not been able to conceal the truth. Then the secretary rang his bell and Lawrence came in, unbound him and took off his waistcoat and unsew the lining. The secretary then read the letters and put them in the drawer of his bureau, telling him that if he had taken the letters he would have been discovered and have lost his life. I pretended to be overwhelmed and covering my face with my hands I knelt down at the bedside before the picture of the virgin and asked her to avenge me on the wretch who had broken the most sacred oaths. I afterwards lay down on the bed, my face to the wall and remained there the whole day without moving, without speaking a word and pretending not to hear the tears, cries and protestations of repentance uttered by the villain. I played my part in the comedy I had sketched out to perfection. In the night I wrote to Father Balby to come at two o'clock in the afternoon, not a minute sooner or later, to work for four hours and not a minute more. On this precision I wrote, our liberty depends and if you observe it all will be well. It was the 25th of October and the time for me to carry out my design or give it up forever drew near. The state inquisitors and their secretary went every year to a village on the mainland and passed there the first three days of November. Lawrence, taking advantage of his master's absence, did not fail to get drunk every evening and did not appear at the leads in the morning till the late hour. Advised of these circumstances I chose this time to make my escape as I was certain that my flight would not be noticed till late in the morning. Another reason for my determination to hurry my escape, when I could no longer doubt the villainy of my detestable companion, seems to me to be worthy of record. The greatest relief of a man in the midst of Miss Forgean is the hope of escaping from it. He sighs for the hour when his sorrows are to end. He thinks he can hasten it by his prayers. He will do anything to know when his torment shall cease. The sufferer, impatient and enfeebled, is inclined mostly to his superstition. God, says he, knows the time and God may reveal it to me, it matters not how. Whilst he is in the state he is ready to trust in divination in any manner his fancy leads him and is more or less disposed to believe in the oracle of which he makes his choice. I then was in this state of mind, but not knowing how to make use of the Bible to inform me of the moment in which I should recover my liberty. I determined to consult the Divine Orlando Furioso, which I had read a hundred times, which I knew by heart, and which was my delight under the leads. I idolized the genius of Ariosto and considered him a far better fortune teller than Virgil. With this idea I wrote a question addressed to the supposed intelligence in which I asked what canto of Ariosto I should find the day of my deliverance. I then made a reversed pyramid composed of the number form from the words of the question and by subtracting the number nine I obtained, finally, nine. This told me that I should find my fate in the ninth canto. I followed the same method to find out the exact stanza in verse and got seven for the stanza and one for the verse. I took up the poem, and my heart beating as if I trusted wholly in the oracle I opened it, turned down the leaf, and read The precision of the line and its appropriateness to my circumstances appeared so wonderful to me that I will not confess that I placed my faith entirely in it, but the reader will pardon me if I say that I did all in my power to make the prediction a correct one. The most singular circumstance is that between the end of October and the beginning of November there was only the instant midnight and it was just as a clock was striking midnight on the 31st of October that I escaped from my cell as the reader will soon see. The following is the manner in which I passed the morning to strike awe into the soul of that vicious brute to confound his feeble intellect and to render him harmless to me. As soon as Lawrence had left us I told Sorodaki to come and take some soup. The scoundrel was in bed and he had told Lawrence that he was ill. He would not have dared to approach me if I had not called him. However, he rose from bed and threw himself flat upon the ground at my feet and said, weeping violently, that if I would not forgive him he would die before the day was done as he already felt the curse and vengeance of the Holy Virgin which I had denounced against him.  He showed it to me and I saw that it was full of ulcers but I cannot say whether it was thus the night before. I did not much care to examine him to see if he were telling me the truth. My cue was to pretend to believe him and to make him hope for mercy. I began by making him eat and drink. The traitor most likely intended to deceive me but as I was myself determined to deceive him it remained to see which was the acuter. I had planned an attack against which it was improbable that he could defend himself. Assuming an inspired heir I said, be seated and take this soup and afterwards I will tell you of your good fortune for know that the Virgin of the Rosary appeared to me at daybreak and bids me pardon you.  In great wonderment and kneeling on the ground for want of a chair he ate the soup with me and afterwards seated himself on the bed to hear what I had to say. Thus I spoke to him. The grief I experienced at your dreadful trees and made me pass a sleepless night as the letters might condemn me to spend here the remnants of my days. My only consolation I confess was the certainty that you would die here also before my eyes within three days. Full of this thought not worthy of a Christian for God bids us forgive our enemies. My weariness made me sleep and in my sleep I had a vision. I saw that Holy Virgin, Mother of God, whose likeness you behold. I saw her before me and opening her lips she spoke thus. So her dhaki is a devotee of my Holy Rosary. I protect him and I will that you forgive him and then the curse he has drawn on himself will cease. In return for your generosity I will order one of my angels to take the form of man, to come down from heaven, to break open the roof of your prison and set you free within five or six days. The angel will begin his task this day at two o'clock precisely and he will work till half an hour before sunset since he must descend again into heaven while the daylight lasts. When you come out of this place take so her dhaki with you and have a care for him if he will renounce his business of spying. Tell him all.  I spoke all the while with a serious face and the air of one inspired and I saw that the traitor was petrified. I then took my book of hours, sprinkled the cell with holy water and pretended to pray, kissing from time to time the picture of the Virgin and hour afterwards the brute who so far had not opened his mouth asked me bluntly at what time the angel would come down from heaven and if we should hear him breaking in the cell. I am certain that he will begin at two o'clock and that we shall hear him at his work and that he will depart at the hour named by the Holy Virgin. You may have dreamt it all. Nay, not so. Will you swear to me to spy no more? Instead of answering he went off to sleep and did not awake for two hours after when he asked if he could put off taking the oath. I asked of him. You can put off taking it. I said. So the angel enters to set me free but if you do not then renounce by an oath the infamous trade which has brought you here and which will end by bringing you to the gallows I shall leave you in the cell for so the mother of God commands and if you do not obey you will lose her protection. As I expected I saw an expression of satisfaction on his hideous features but he was quite certain that the angel would not come. He looked at me with a pitying air. I longed to hear the hour strike. The play amused me intensely for I was persuaded that the approach of the angel would set his miserable wits a-reeling. I was sure also that this plan would succeed if Lawrence had not forgotten to give the monk the books and this was not likely.  I only drank water and saw a darky drink all the wine and consumed all the garlic I had and thus made himself worse. As soon as I heard the first stroke of two I fell on my knees, ordering him in an awful voice to do the like. He obeyed, looking at me in a dazed way. When I heard the first slight noise I exclaimed, LOW THE ANGEL COMETH! and fell down on my face and with a hearty fistic I forced him into the same position. The noise of breaking was plainly heard and for a quarter of an hour I kept in that troublesome position and if the circumstances had been different I should have laughed to see how motionless the creature was but I restrained myself, remembering my design of completely turning the fellow's head or at least of obsessing him for a time. As soon as I got up I knelt and allowed him to imitate me and I spent three hours in saying the rosary to him. From time to time he dozed off, wearied rather by his position than by the monotony of the prayer but during the whole time he never interrupted me. Now and again he dared to raise a furtive glance towards the ceiling.  When I heard the clock strike the hour for the work to cease I said to him, prostrate thyself for the angel to parteth. Balbi returned to his cell and we heard him no more. As I rose to my feet, fixing my gaze on the wretched fellow, I read fright on every feature and was delighted. I addressed a few words to him that I might see in what state of mind he was. He shed tears in abundance and what he said was mostly extravagant, his ideas having no sequence or connection. He spoke of his sins, of his acts of devotion, of his zeal in the service of Saint Mark and of the work he had done for the Commonwealth and to this he attributed the special favours Mary had shown him. I had to put up with a long story about the miracles of the rosary which his wife, whose confessor was a young Dominican, had told him. He said that he did not know what use I could make of an ignorant fellow like him. I will take you into my service and you shall have all that you need without being obliged to pursue the hazardous trade of a spy. Shall we not be able to remain at Venice? Certainly not. The angel will take us to a land which does not belong to Saint Mark. Will you swear to me that you will spy no more?  If I take that oath, I will surely keep it. Of that there can be no doubt. But you must confess that if I had not pejorged myself, you would never receive such favour at the hands of the Virgin. My broken faith is the cause of your bliss. You ought therefore to love me and be content with my treason. Dost thou love Judas who betrayed Jesus Christ? No. You perceive, then, that one detests the traitor and at the same time adores the divine providence, which knows now to bring good out of evil. Up to the present time you have done wickedly. You have offended God in the Virgin, his mother, and I will not receive your oath till you have expiated your sins. What sin have I done? You have sinned by pride, soadaki, in thinking that I was under an obligation to you for betraying me and giving my letters to the secretary. How shall I expiate this sin? Thus, tomorrow, when Lawrence comes, you must lie on your bed, your face towards the wall, and without the slightest motion or a single glance at Lawrence. If he addresses you, you must answer without looking at him, that you could not sleep and need rest. Do you promise me entirely to do this thing? I will do whatsoever you tell me. Quick, then, take your oath before this holy picture. I promise, holy Mother of God, that when Lawrence comes, I will not look at him nor stir from my bed. And I, most holy Virgin, swear by the bowels of your divine Son that if I see soadaki move in the least or look towards Lawrence, I will throw myself straight way upon him and strangle him without mercy to your honor and glory. I counted on my threat having at least as much effect upon him as the oath. Nevertheless, as I was anxious to make sure, I asked him if he had anything to say against the oath, and after thinking for a moment, he answered that he was quite content with it. Well pleased with myself, I gave him something to eat and told him to go to bed as I needed sleep. As soon as he was asleep, I began to write and wrote on for two hours. I told Balbi all that it happened, and he said that if the work was far enough advanced, he need only come above myself to put the final stroke to it and break through. I made him note that we should set out on the night of the 31st of October and that we should be for and all, counting his companion and mine. It was now the 28th of the month. In the morning, the monk wrote me that the passage was made and that he should only require to work at the ceiling of myself to break through the last board and this would be done in four minutes. Soadaki observed his oath, pretending to sleep, and Lawrence said nothing to him. I kept my eyes upon him the whole time, and I verily believe I should have strangled him if he had made the slightest motion toward Lawrence, for a wink would have been enough to betray me. The rest of the day was devoted to high discourses and exalted expressions, which I uttered as solemnly as I could, and I enjoyed the sight of seeing him become more and more fanatical. To heighten the effect of my mystic exhortation, I dosed him heavily with wine and did not let him go till he had fallen into a drunken sleep. Though a stranger to all metaphysical speculations and a man who had never exercised his reasoning faculties except in devising some piece of spycraft, the fellow confused me for a moment by saying that he could not conceive how an angel should have to take so much trouble to break open our cell. But after lifting my eyes to heaven, or rather to the roof of my dungeon cell, I said, The ways of God are inscrutable, and since the messenger of heaven works not as an angel, for then a slight single blow would be enough, he works like a man whose form he has doubtless taken, as we are not worthy to look upon his celestial body, and furthermore, said I, like a true Jesuit who knows how to draw the advantage from everything, I foresee the angel to punish us for your evil thought which has offended the holy virgin will not come today. Wretch! Your thoughts are not those of an honest, pious and religious man, but those of a sinner who thinks he has to do with Messer Grand and his Meyer Middens. I wanted to drive him to despair, and I succeeded. He began to weep bitterly, and his sobs almost choked him, when two o'clock struck and not a sign of the angel was heard. Instead of calming him, I endeavored to augment his misery by my complaints. The next morning he was obedient to my orders, for when Lawrence asked him how he was, he replied without moving his head. He behaved in the same manner on the day following, and until I saw Lawrence for the last time in the morning of the 31st of October. I gave him the book for Barbie, and told the monk to come at noon to break through the ceiling. I feared nothing, as Lawrence had told me that the inquisitors and the secretary had already set out for the country. I had no reason to dread the arrival of a new companion, and all I had to do was manage my nave. After Lawrence was gone, I told Sorodaki that the angel would come and make an opening in the ceiling about noon. He will bring a pair of scissors with him, I said, and he will have to cut the angel's beard and mine. Has the angel a beard? Yes, you shall see it for yourself. Afterwards we shall get out of the cell and proceed to break the roof of the palace, whence we shall descend to the St. Mark's place and set out for Germany. He answered nothing. He had to eat by himself, for my mind was much too occupied to think about dinner, indeed, I had been unable to sleep. The appointed hour struck, and the angel came. Sorodaki was going to fall down on his face, but I told him it was not necessary. In three minutes the passage was completed. The piece of board fell at my feet and Father Balby into my arms. Your work has ended and mine begun, said I to him. We embraced each other, and he gave me the pike and a pair of scissors. I told Sorodaki to cut her beards, but I could not help laughing to see the creature, his mouth all agape staring at the angel, who was more like a devil. However, though quite beside himself, he cut our beards admirably. Anxious to see how the land lay, I told the monk to stay with Sorodaki, as I did not care to leave him alone, and I went out. I found the hole in the wall narrow, but I succeeded in getting through it. I was above the Count's cell, and I came in and greeted the worthy old man. The man before me was not fit to encounter such difficulties as would be involved in an escape by a steep roof covered with plates of lead. He asked me what my plan was, and told me that he thought I had acted rather inconsiderately. I only asked to go forward, said I, till I find death or freedom. If you intend, he answered, to pierce the roof and to descend from thence, I see no prospect of success unless you have wings, and I at all events have not the courage to accompany you. I will remain here and pray to God on your behalf. I went out again to look at the roof, getting as close as I could to the sides of the loft. Touching the lower part of the roof, I took up a position between the beams, and feeling the wood with the end of the bar, I luckily found them to be half rotten. At every blow of the bar, they fell to dust, so feeling certain of my ability to make a large enough hold in less than an hour, I returned to my cell, and for four hours employed myself in cutting up sheets, coverlets, and bedding to make ropes. I took care to make the knots myself, and to be assured of their strength, for a single week not might cost us our lives. At last I had ready a hundred fathoms of rope. In great undertakings, there are certain critical points which the leader who deserves to succeed trusts to no one but himself. When the rope was ready, I made a parcel of my suit, my cloak, a few shirts, stockings, and hacker-chiefs, and the three of us went into the Count's cell. The first thing the Count did was to congratulate Soridaki on having been placed in the same cell as myself, and on being so soon about to regain his liberty. His air of speechless confusion made me want to laugh. I took no more trouble about him, for I had thrown off the Mask of Tartuffe, which I had found terribly inconvenient all the time I had worn it for the rascal's sake. He knew I could see that he had not been deceived, but he understood nothing else, as he could not make out how I could have arranged with the supposed angel to come and go at certain fixed times. He listened attentively to the Count, who told us we were going to our destruction, and like the coward that he was, he began to plan how to escape from the dangerous journey. I told the monk to put his bundle together while I was making the hole in the roof by the side of the loft. At eight o'clock, without needing any help, my opening was made. I had broken up the beams, and the space was twice the size required. I got the plate of lead off in one piece. I could not do it by myself, because it was riveted. The monk came to my aid, and by dint of driving the bar between the gutter and the lead, I succeeded in loosening it, and then, heaving at it with our shoulders, we beat it up until the opening was wide enough. On putting my head out through the hole, I was distressed to see the brilliant light of the crescent moon, then entering its first quarter. This was a piece of bad luck, which must be borne patiently, and we should have to wait till midnight, when the moon would have gone to light up the antipodes. On such a fine night as this, everybody would be walking in St. Mark's place, and I dared not show myself on the roof, as the moonlight would have thrown a huge shadow of me on the place, and have drawn towards me all eyes, especially those of Messer Grand and his Myra Middens, and our fine scheme would have been brought to nothing by their detestable activity. I immediately decided that we could not escape until after moon set. In the meantime, I prayed for the help of God, but did not ask him to work any miracles for me. I was at the mercy of fortune, and I had to take care not to give her any advantages. And if my scheme ended in failure, I should be consoled by the thought that I had made not a single mistake. The moon would set at eleven, and sunrise was at six, so we had seven hours of perfect darkness at our service, and though we had a hard task, I considered that in seven hours it would be accomplished. I told Father Balby that we could pass the three hours in talking to the Countess Skin. I requested him to go first, and asked the Count to lend me thirty sequins, which would be as necessary to me as my Pike had been Heather too. He carried my message, and a few minutes after came and asked me to go myself, as the Count wished to talk to me alone. The poor old man began by saying with great politeness that I really stood in no need of money to escape, that he had none, that he had a large family, that if I was killed the money would be lost, with a thousand other futilities of the same kind to disguise his avarice, or the dislike he felt to parting with his money. My reply lasted for half an hour, and contained some excellent arguments, which never have had and never will have any force, as the finest weapons of oratory are blunted when used against one of the strongest of his passions. It was a matter of a nolenti baculus, not that I was cruel enough to use force towards an unhappy old man like the Count. I ended my speech by saying that if he would flee with us, I would carry him upon my shoulders, like Aeneas carried Aenchesis, but if he was going to stay in prison to offer up prayers for our success, his prayers would be observed, as it would be a case of praying God to give success when he himself had refused to contribute the most ordinary aid. He replied by a flood of tears which affected me. He then asked if two sequins would be enough, and I answered in the affirmative. He then gave them to me begging me to return them to him, if after getting on the roof I saw my wisest course would be to come back. I promised to do so, feeling somewhat astonished that he should deem me capable of a retreat. He little knew me, for I would have preferred death to an imprisonment which would have been life long. I called my companions, and we set all our baggage near the hole. I divided the hundred fathoms of rope into two packets, and we spent two hours in talking over the chances of our undertaking. The first proof which Father Balbi gave me of his fine character was to tell me ten times over that I had broken my word with him, since I had assured him that my scheme was complete and certain, while it was really nothing of the kind. He went so far as to tell me that if he had known as much, he would not have taken me from my cell. The count also, with all the weight of his seventy years, told me that I should do well to give up so hazardous an undertaking, in which success was impossible and death probable. As he was a barrister, he made me a speech as follows, and I had not much difficulty in guessing that he was inspired by the thought of the two sequins which I should have had to give him back, if he had succeeded in persuading me to stay where I was. The incline of the roof covered with lead plates, said he, will render it impossible for you to walk. Indeed, you will scarcely be able to stand on your feet. It is true that the roof has seven or eight windows, but they are all barred with iron, and you could not keep your footing near them since they are far from the sides. Your ropes are useless as you will find nothing whereon to fasten them, and even if you did, a man descending from such a height cannot reach the ground by himself. One of you will therefore have to lower the two others one at a time, as one lowers a bucket or a bundle of wood, and he who does so will have to stay behind and go back to his cell. Which of you three has a vocation for this dangerous work of charity? And supposing that one of you is heroic enough to do so, can you tell me on which side you are going to descend, not by the side towards the palace, for you would be seen, not by the church, as you would find yourself still shot up, and as to the court side, you would surely not think of it, for you would fall into the hands of the Arsenal Lottie who are always going their rounds there. You have only the canal side left, and where is your gondola to take you off? Not having any such thing, you will be obliged to throw yourself in and escape by swimming towards St. Apollonia, which you will reach in a wretched condition, not knowing where to turn to next. You must remember that the leads are slippery, and that if you were to fall into the canal considering the height of the fall and the shallowness of the water, you would most certainly be killed if you could swim like sharks. You would be crushed to death, for three or four feet of water are not sufficient to counteract the effect of a fall from such a height. In short, the best fate you can expect is to find yourselves on the ground with broken arms and legs. The effect of this discourse, a very unseasonable one under the circumstances was to make my blood boil, but I listened with the patience wholly foreign to my nature. The rough reproaches of the monk enraged me, and inclined me to answer him in his own way, but I felt that my position was a difficult one, and that unless I was careful I might ruin all, for I had to do with a coward quite capable of saying that he was not going to risk his life, and by myself I could not hope to succeed. I constrained myself, therefore, and as politely as I could I told him that I was sure of success, though I could not as yet communicate the details of my plan. I shall profit by your wise counsels, said I to count a skin, and be very prudent, but my trust in God and in my own strength will carry me through all difficulties. From time to time I stretched out my hand to assure myself that Sauradaki was there, for he did not speak a word. I laughed to myself to think what he might be turning in his head now that he was convinced that I deceived him. At half-past ten I told him to go and see what was the position of the moon. He obeyed and returned, saying that in an hour and a half it would have disappeared, and that there was a thick fog which would make the leads very dangerous. All I ask, I said, is that the fog be not made of oil. Put your cloak in a packet with some of the rope which must be divided equally between us. At this I was astonished to find him at my knees, kissing my hands, and in treating me not to kill him. I should be sure, said he, to fall over in the canal, and I should not be of any use to you. Oh, leave me here, and all the night I will pray to St. Francis for you. You can kill me or save me alive, but of this I am determined never to follow you. The fool never thought how he had responded to my prayers. You are right, I said. You may stop here on the condition that you will pray to St. Francis, and that you go forthwith and fetch my books, which I wish to leave to the Count. He did so without answering me, doubtless with much joy. My books were worth at least a hundred crowns. The Count told me that he would give them back on my return. You may be sure, I said, that you will never see me here again. The books will cover your expenditure of two sequins. As to this rascal, I am delighted, as he cannot muster sufficient courage to come with me. He would be in the way, and the fellow is not worthy of sharing with Father Balby and myself the honors of so brave a flight. That's true, said the Count, provided that he does not congratulate himself tomorrow. I asked the Count to give me pens, ink, and paper, which he possessed in spite of the regulations to the contrary, for such prohibitions were nothing to Lawrence, who would have sold St. Mark himself for a crown. I then wrote the following letter, which I gave to Sora Daki, not being able to read it over, as I had written it in the dark. I began by a fine heading, which I wrote in Latin, which in English would run thus. I shall not die, but live, and declare the works of the Lord. Our Lords of Stator have bound to do all in their power to keep a prisoner under the leads, and on the other hand the prisoner, who is fortunately not on parole, is bound also to make his escape. Their right to act thus is founded on justice, while the prisoner follows the voice of nature, and since they have not asked him whether he will be put in prison, so he ought not to ask them leave to escape. Jacques Casanova, writing in the bitterness of his heart, knows that he may have the ill-luck to be recaptured before he succeeds in leaving the Venetian territory, and escaping to a friendly state. But if so, he appeals to the humanity of the judges, not to add to the misery of the condition from which, yielding to the voice of nature, he is endeavoring to escape. He begs them, if he be taken, to return him whatever may be in his cell. But if he succeeds, he gives the whole to Francis Sora Daki, who is still a captive for want of courage to escape, not like me preferring liberty to life. Casanova entreats their excellencies not to refuse the poor wretch this gift, dated an hour before midnight in the cell of Count Eskin on October 31st, 1756. I warned Sora Daki not to give this letter to Lawrence, but to the secretarian person, who, no doubt, would interrogate him if he did not go himself to the cell, which was the more likely course. The Count said my letter was perfect, but that he would give back all my books if I returned. The fool said he wished to see me again to prove that he would return everything gladly. But our time had come. The moon had set. I hung the half of the ropes by Father Balby's neck on one side and his clothes on the other. I did the same to myself, and with our hats and our coats off, we went to the opening. Ikwindio shimo arrimirar le stelle Tante End of Chapter 29 Recording by Christopher Marst Chapter 30 Part 1 of the memoirs of Jacques Casanova, Volume 2. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Paul Adams The memoirs of Jacques Casanova, Volume 2. Paris and Prison by Yakomo Casanova Translated by Arthur Macken Episode 10, Chapter 30, Part 1 The Escape I nearly lose my life on the roof. I get out of the ducal palace, take a boat, and reach the mainland. Danger to which I am exposed by Father Balby. My scheme for ridding myself of him. I got out the first, and Father Balby followed me. Soridachi, who had come as far as the opening, had orders to put the plate of lead back in its place, and then to go and pray to Saint Francis for us. Keeping on my hands and knees, and grasping my pike firmly, I pushed it obliquely between the joining of the plates of lead, and then, holding the side of the plate which I had lifted, I succeeded in drawing myself up to the summit of the roof. The monk had taken hold of my waistband to follow me, and thus I was like a beast of burden who has to carry and draw along at the same time, and this on a steep and slippery roof. When we were half way up, the monk asked me to stop as one of his packets had slipped off, and he hoped it had not gone further than the gutter. My first thought was to give him a kick and to send him after his packet, but praise be to God I had sufficient self-control not to yield to it, and indeed the punishment would have been too heavy for both of us, as I should have had no chance of escaping by myself. I asked him if it was a bundle of rope, and on his reply that it was a small packet of his own, containing manuscript he had found in one of the garrets under the leads, I told him he must bear it patiently, as a single step might be our destruction. The poor monk gave a sigh, and he still clinging to my waist we continued climbing. After having surmounted with the greatest difficulty fifteen or sixteen plates we got to the top, on which I sat astride, Father Balby imitating my example. Our backs were towards the little island of St George the Greater, and about two hundred places in front of us were the numerous cupillers of St Mark's Church, which forms part of the Ducal Palace, for St Mark's is really the doge's private chapel, and no monarch in the world can boast of having a finer. My first step was to take off my bundle, and I told my companion to do the same. He put the rope as best he could upon his thighs, but, wishing to take off his hat, which was in his way, he took hold of it awkwardly, and it was soon dancing from plate to plate to join the packet of linen in the gutter. My poor companion was in despair. A bad omen, he exclaimed. Our task has but begun, and here I am deprived of shirt, hat, and a precious manuscript, containing a curious account of the festivals of the palace. I felt calmer, now that I was no longer crawling on hands and knees, and I told him quietly that the two accidents, which had happened to him, had nothing extraordinary in them, and that not even a superstitious person would call them omens, that I did not consider them in that light, and that they were far from damping my spirits. They ought rather, said I, to warn you to be prudent, and to remind you that God is certainly watching over us, for if your hat had fallen to the left instead of to the right, we should have been undone, as in that case it would have fallen into the palace court, where it would have caught the attention of the guards, and have let them know that there was someone on the roof, and in a few minutes we should have been retaken. After looking about me for some time, I told the monk to stay still till I came back, and I set out, my pike in my hand, sitting astride the roof, and moving along without any difficulty. For nearly an hour I went to this side and that, keeping a sharp look out, but in vain, for I could see nothing to which the rope could be fastened, and I was in the greatest perplexity as to what was to be done. It was of no use thinking of getting down on the canal side, or by the court of the palace, and the church offered only precipices which led to nothing. To get to the other side of the church towards the canonical, I should have had to climb roofs so steep that I saw no prospect of success. The situation called for hardy-hood, but not the smallest piece of rashness. It was necessary, however, either to escape, or to re-enter the prison, perhaps never again to leave it, or to throw myself into the canal. And such a dilemma it was necessary to leave a good deal to chance and to make a start of some kind. My eye caught a window on the canal sides, and two-thirds of the distance from the gutter to the summit of the roof. It was a good distance from the spot I had set out from, so I concluded that the garret lighted the roof, lighted by it did not form part of the prison I had just broken. It could only light a loft, inhabited or uninhabited, above some rooms in the palace, the doors of which would probably be opened by daybreak. I was morally sure that if the palace servants saw us, they would help us to escape, and not deliver us over to the inquisitors. Even if they recognised us as criminals of the deepest dye, so heartily was the state inquisition hated by everyone. It was thus necessary for me to get in front of the window, and letting myself slide softly down in a straight line, I soon found myself astride on top of the dorma-roof. Then, grasping the sides, I stretched my head over, and succeeded in seeing and touching a small grating, behind which was a window of square panes of glass, joined with thin strips of lead. I did not trouble myself about the window, but the grating, small as it was, appeared an insurmountable difficulty failing a file, and I had only my pike. I was thoroughly perplexed, and was beginning to lose courage, when an incident of the simplest and most natural kind came to my aid and fortified my resolution. Philosophic reader, if you will place yourself for a moment in my position, if you will share the sufferings which for fifteen months had been my lot, if you think of my danger on the top of a roof, where the slightest step in the wrong direction would have cost me my life, if you consider the few hours at my disposal to overcome difficulties which might spring up at any moment, the candid confession I am about to make will not lower me in your esteem. At any rate, if you do not forget that a man in an anxious and dangerous position is in reality only half himself. It was the clock of St. Mark's striking midnight, which, by a violent shock, drew me out of the state of perplexity I had fallen into. The clock reminded me that the day just beginning was all saint's day, the day of my patron saint, at least if I had one, and the prophecy of my confessor came into my mind. But I confessed that what chiefly strengthened me, both bodily and mentally, was the profane oracle of my beloved Ariosto, The chime seemed to me a speaking talisman, commanding me to be up and doing, and promising me the victory. Lying on my belly I stretched my head towards the grating, and pushing my pike into the sash which held it, I resolved to take it out in a piece. In a quarter of an hour I succeeded, and held the whole grate in my hands, and putting it on one side I easily broke the glass window, though wounding my left hand. With the aid of my pike, using it as I had done before, I regained the ridge of the roof, and went back to the spot where I had left Balby. I found him enraged and despairing, and he abused me heartily for having left him for so long. He assured me that he was only waiting for it to get light to return to the prison. What did you think had become of me? I thought you must have fallen over, and you can find no better way than abuse to express the joy you ought to feel at seeing me again. What have you been doing all this time? Follow me and you shall see. I took up my packets again, and made my way toward the window. As soon as we were opposite to it, I told Balby what I had done, and asked him if he could think of any way of getting into the loft. For one it was easy enough, for the other could lower him by the rope, but I could not discover how the second of us was to get down afterwards, as there was nothing to which the rope could be fastened. If I let myself fall, I might break my arms and legs, for I did not know the distance between the window and the floor of the room. To this chain of reasoning uttered in the friendliest possible tone the brute replied thus, You let me down, and when I have got to the bottom you will have plenty of time to think how you are going to follow me. I confessed that my first indignant impulse was to drive my pike into his throat. My good genius stayed my arm, and I uttered not a word in reproach of his base selfishness. On the contrary, I straightway untied my bundle of rope, and bound him strongly under the elbows, and making him lie flat down, I lowered him feet foremost onto the roof of the dormer window. When he got there I told him to lower himself into the window as far as his hips, supporting himself by holding his elbows against the sides of the window. As soon as he had done so I slid down the roof as before, and lying down on the dormer roof with a firm grasp of the rope I told the monk not to be afraid but to let himself go. When he reached the floor of the loft he untied himself, and on drawing the rope back I found the fall was one of fifty feet, too dangerous a jump to be risked. The monk who for two hours had been a prey to terror, seated in a position which I confess was not a very reassuring one, was not quite call, and called out to me to throw him the ropes for him to take care of. Piece of advice you may be sure I took care not to follow. Not knowing what to do next, and waiting for some fortunate idea, I made my way back to the ridge of the roof, and from there spied out a corner near a cupola, which I had not visited. I went towards it and found a flat roof with a large window closed with two shutters. At hand was a tub full of plaster, a trowel, and ladder which I thought long enough for my purpose. This was enough, and tying my rope to the first round I dragged this troublesome burden after me to the window. My next task was to get the end of the ladder, which was twelve fathoms long, into the opening, and the difficulties I encountered made me sorry that I deprived myself of the aid of the monk. Here's an editor note. The unit of measure fathoms describing the ladder and earlier the hundred fathoms of rope is likely a translation error. Casanova might have manufactured a hundred feet of rope, and might have dragged a twelve foot ladder up the steep roof, but not a longer. D.W. I had set the ladder in such a way that one end touched the window, and the other went below the gutter. I next slid down to the roof of the window, and drawing the ladder towards me, I fastened the end of my rope to the eighth round, and then let it go again till it was parallel with the window. I then strove to get it in, but I could not insert it farther than the fifth round. For the end of the ladder being stopped by the inside roof of the window, no force on earth could have pushed it any further without breaking either the ladder or the ceiling. There was nothing to be done but to lift it by the other end, it would then slip down by its own weight. I might, it is true, have placed the ladder across the window, and have fastened the rope to it, in which manner I might have let myself down into the loft without any risk, but the ladder would have been left outside to show Lawrence and the guards where to look for us, and possibly define us in the morning. I did not care to risk by a piece of imprudence the fruit of so much toil and danger, and to destroy all traces of our whereabouts, the ladder must be drawn in. Having no one to give me a helping hand, I resolved to go myself to the parapet to lift the ladder and attain the end I had in view.  I could let go the ladder while I slackened the rope without any fear of it falling over, as it had caught to the parapet by the third rung. Then, my pike in my hand, I slid down beside the ladder to the parapet, which held up the points of my feet as I was lying on my belly. In this position I pushed the ladder forward, and was able to get it into the window to the length of a foot, and that diminished by a good deal its weight. I now only had to push it in another two feet, as I was sure that I could get it in altogether by means of the rope from the roof of the window. To impel the ladder to the extent required I got on my knees, but the effort I had to use made me slip, and in an instant I was over the parapet as far as my chest sustained by my elbows. I shudder still when I think of this awful moment, which cannot be conceived in all its horror. My natural instinct made me almost unconsciously strain every nerve to regain the parapet, and I had nearly said miraculously I succeeded. Taking care not to let myself slip back an inch, I struggled upwards with my hands and arms, while my belly was resting on the edge of the parapet. Fortunately the ladder was safe, for with that unlucky effort which had nearly cost me so dearly, I had pushed it in more than three feet, and there it remained. Finding myself resting on my groin on the parapet, I saw that I had only to lift up my right leg, and to put up first one knee and then the other, to be absolutely out of danger. But I had not yet got to the end of my trouble. The effort I made gave me so severe a spasm that I became cramped and unable to use my limbs. However, I did not lose my head, but kept quiet till the pain had gone off, knowing by experience that keeping still is the best cure for the false cramp. It was a dreadful moment. In two minutes I made another effort, and had the good fortune to get my two knees onto the parapet, and as soon as I had taken breath, I cautiously hoisted the ladder and pushed it halfway through the window. I then took my pike, and crawling up as I had done before, I reached the window, where my knowledge of the laws of equilibrium and leverage aided me to insert the ladder to its full length, my companion receiving the end of it. I then threw into the loft the bundles and the fragments that I had broken off the window, and I stepped down to the monk who welcomed me heartily and drew in the ladder. Arm in arm we proceeded to inspect the gloomy retreat in which we found ourselves, and judged it to be about thirty paces long by twenty wide. At one end were folding doors barred with iron. This looked bad, but putting my hand to the latch in the middle yielded to the pressure, and the door opened. The first thing we did was to make the tour of the room, and crossing it we stumbled against a large table surrounded by stalls and armchairs. Returning to the part where we had seen windows, we opened the shutters of one of them, and the light of the stars only showed us the cupillers and the depths beneath them. I did not think for a moment of lowering myself down, as I wished to know where I was going, and I did not recognize our surroundings. I shut the window up, and we returned to the place where we had left our packages. Quite exhausted, I let myself fall on the floor, and placing a bundle of rope under my head, a sweet sleep came to me. Relief. I abandoned myself to it without resistance, and indeed I believe if death were to have been the result, I should have slept all the same, and I still remember how I enjoyed that sleep. It lasted for three and a half hours, and I was awakened by the monks calling out and shaking me. He told me that he had just struck five. He said it was inconceivable to him how I could sleep in the situation we were in. But that which was inconceivable to him was not so to me. I had not fallen asleep on purpose, but had only yielded to the demands of exhausted nature, and if I may say so, to the extremity of my need. In my exhaustion there was nothing to wonder at, since I had neither eaten nor slept for two days, and the efforts I had made, efforts almost beyond the limits of mortal endurance, might well have exhausted any man. In my sleep my activity had come back to me, and I was delighted to see the darkness disappearing, so that we should be able to proceed with more certainty and quickness. Casting a rapid glance around, I said to myself, this is not a prison, there ought therefore be some easy exit from it. We addressed ourselves to the end opposite to the folding doors, and in a narrow recess I thought I made out a doorway. I felt it over and touched a lock into which I thrust my pike and opened it with three or four heaves. We then found ourselves in a small room, and I discovered a key on a table, which I tried on a door opposite to us, which however proved to be unlocked. I told the monk to go for our bundles, and replacing the key we passed out, and came into a gallery containing presses full of papers. They were the state archives. I came across a short flight of stone stairs, which I descended, then another which I descended also, and found a glass door at the end, on opening which I entered a hall well known to me. We were in the Ducal Chancery. I opened a window and could have got down easily, but the result would have been that we should have been trapped in the maze of little courts around St Mark's Church. I saw on a desk an iron instrument of which I took possession. It had a rounded point and a wooden handle, being used by the clerks of the Chancery to pierce parchment for the purpose of affixing the leaden seals. On opening the desk I saw the copy of a letter advising the Pravidatory of Corfu of a grant of three thousand sequins for the restoration of the old fortress. I searched for the sequins, but they were not there. God knows how gladly I would have taken them, and how I would have laughed the monk to scorn if he had accused me of theft. I should have received the money as a gift from heaven and should have regarded myself as its master by conquest. Going to the door of the Chancery, I put my bar in the keyhole, but finding immediately that I could not break it open, I resolved on making a hole in the door. I took care to choose the side where the wood had fewest knots, and working with all speed I struck as hard and as cleaving strokes as I was able. The monk, who helped me as well as he could with the punch I had taken from the desk, trembled at the echoing clamour of my pike, which must have been audible at some distance. I felt the danger myself, but it had to be risked. Chapter 30 Part 2 of the Memoirs of Jacques Casanova Volume 2 This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings were in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Paul Adams The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova Volume 2 Paris and Prison by Yakomo Casanova Translated by Arthur Macken Episode 10 Chapter 30 Part 2 In half an hour the hole was large enough, a fortunate circumstance, for I should have had much trouble in making it any larger without the aid of a saw. I was afraid when I looked at the edges of the hole, for they bristled with jagged pieces of wood, which seemed made for tearing clothes and flesh together. The hole was at a height of five feet from the ground. We placed beneath it two stalls, one beside the other, and when we had stepped upon them, the monk with arms crossed and head foremost began to make his way through the hole, and, taking him by the thighs and afterwards by the legs, I succeeded in pushing him through, and though it was dark, I felt quite secure as I knew the surroundings. As soon as my companion had reached the other side, I threw him my belongings, with the exception of the ropes which I left behind, and, placing a third stall on the two others, I climbed up and got through as far as my middle, though with much difficulty owing to the extreme narrowness of the hole. Then, having nothing to grasp with my hands, nor anyone to push me as I had pushed the monk, I asked him to take me and draw me gently and by slow degrees towards him. He did so, and I endured silently the fearful torture I had to undergo as my thighs and legs were torn by the splinters of wood. As soon as I got through, I made haste to pick up my bundle of linen, and going down two flights of stairs, I opened without difficulty the door leading into the passage, whence opens the chief door to the grand staircase, and in another the door of the closet of the Savio Alice Crittura. The chief door was locked, and I saw at once that, failing a catapult or a mine of gunpowder, I could not possibly get through. The bar I still held seemed to say, Hiccfine's posuit, my use is ended, and you can lay me down. It was dear to me as the instrument of freedom, and was worthy of being hung as an ex-voto on the altar of liberty. I sat down with the utmost tranquillity, and told the monk to do the same. My work is done, I said, the rest must be left to God and fortune. I'll be a chireguei chiltura del resto, o la fortuna se non toca a lui. I do not know whether those who sweep out the palace will come here today, which is all saints' day, or tomorrow, all souls' day. If anyone comes, I should run out as soon as the door opens, and do you follow after me. But if nobody comes, I do not budge a step, and if I die of hunger, so much the worse for me. At the speech of mine he became beside himself.  I let him talk and took no notice. It struck six. Only an hour had passed since I had my awakening in the loft. My first task was to change my clothes. Father Balby looked like a peasant, but he was in better condition than I. His clothes were not torn to shreds or covered with blood. His red flannel waistcoat and purple britches were intact, while my figure could only inspire pity or terror. So bloodstained and tattered was I. I took off my stockings, and the blood gushed out of two wounds I had given myself on the parapet, while the splinters in the hole in the door had torn my waistcoat, shirt, britches, legs, and thighs. I was dreadfully wounded all over my body. I made bandages of handkerchiefs, and dressed my wounds as best I could, and then put on my fine suit, which on a winter's day would look odd enough. Having tied up my hair, I put on white stockings, a laced shirt, failing any other, and two others over it. And then, stowing away some stockings and handkerchiefs in my pockets, I threw everything else into a corner of the room. I flung my fine cloak over the monk, and the fellow looked as if he had stolen it. I must have looked like a man who had been to a dance, and had spent the rest of the night in a disorderly house, though the only foil for my reasonable elegance of attire was the bandages round my knees. In this guise with my exquisite hat trimmed with Spanish lace, and adorned with a white feather on my head, I opened a window. I was immediately remarked by some lounger in the palace court who, not understanding what any one of my appearance was doing there at such an early hour, went to tell the doorkeeper of the circumstance. He, thinking he must have locked somebody in the night before, went for his keys and came towards us. I was sorry to have let myself be seen at the window, not knowing that there in chance was working for our escape, and was sitting down listening to the idle talk of the monk when I heard the jingling of keys. Much perturbed, I got up and put my eye to a chink in the door, and saw a man with a great bunch of keys in his hand mounting leisurely up the stairs. I told the monk not to open his mouth, to keep well behind me and to follow my steps. I took my pike and, concealing it in my right sleeve, I got into a corner by the door, whence I could get out as soon as it was opened and run down the stairs. I prayed that the man might make no resistance, as if he did I should be obliged to fell him to the earth, and I determined to do so. The door opened, and the poor man, as soon as he saw me, seemed turned to a stone. Without an instant's delay and in dead silence I made haste to descend the stairs, the monk following me. Avoiding the appearance of a fugitive, but walking fast, I went by the giant's stairs, taking no notice of Father Balby, who kept calling out to the church, to the church. The church door was only about twenty paces from the stairs, but the churches were no longer sanctuaries in Venice, and no one ever took refuge in them. The monk knew this, but Fright had deprived him of his faculties. He told me afterwards that the motive which impelled him to go to the church was the voice of religion, bidding him seek the horns of the altar. Why didn't you go by yourself, said I? I did not like to abandon you, but he should rather have said I did not like to lose the comfort of your company. The safety I sought was beyond the borders of the Republic, and wither would I began to bend my steps. Already there in spirit, I must needs be there in body also. I went straight towards the chief door of the palace, and looking at no one that might be tempted to look at me, I got to the canal and entered the first gondola that I came across, shouting to the boatman on the poop, I want to go to Fusina, be quick and call another gondola! This was soon done, and while the gondola was being got off, I sat down on the seat in the middle, and Balby at the side. The odd appearance of the monk, without a hat, and with a fine cloak on his shoulders, with my unseasonable attire, was enough to make people take us for an astrologer and his man. As soon as we had passed the custom house, the gondoliers began to row with a will along the Judeca canal, by which we must pass to go to Fusina or to Mestra, which latter place was really our destination. When we had traversed half the length of the canal, I put my head out and said to the waterman on the poop, When do you think we shall get to Mestra? But you told me to go to Fusina! You must be mad, I said Mestra! The other boatman said that I was mistaken, and the fall of a monk in his capacity of zealous Christian and friend of truth took care to tell me that I was wrong. I wanted to give him a hearty kick as a punishment for his stupidity, but reflecting that common sense comes not by wishing for it, I burst into a peel of laughter. I'd agreed that I might have made a mistake, but that my real intention was to go to Mestra. To that they answered nothing, but a minute after the master boatman said he was ready to take me to England if I liked. Bravely spoken, said I, and now for Mestra! Ho! We shall be there in three quarters of an hour, as the wind and the tide are in our favour. Well pleased, I looked at the canal behind us, and thought it had never seemed so fair, especially as there was not a single boat coming our way. It was a glorious morning. The air was clear and glowing with the first rays of the sun, and my two young watermen rode easily and well. And as I thought over the night of sorrow, the dangers I had escaped, the abode where I had been fast bound the day before, all the chances which had been in my favour, and the liberty of which I now began to taste the sweets, I was so moved in my heart and grateful to my God that, well I choked with emotion, I burst into tears. My nice companion, who had hitherto only spoken to back up the gondoliers, thought himself bound to offer me his consolations. He did not understand why I was weeping, and the tone he took made me pass from sweet affliction to a strange mirthfulness, which made him go astray once more as he thought I had got mad. The poor monk, as I have said, was a fool, and whatever was bad about him was the result of his folly. I had been under the sad necessity of turning him to account, but though without intending to do so he had also been my ruin. It was no use trying to make him believe that I had told the gondoliers to go to Fulcena, whilst I intended to go to Mestra. He said I could not have thought of that till I got on to the Grand Canal. In due course we reached Mestra. There were no horses to ride post, but I found men with coaches who did as well, and I agreed with one of them to take me to Trevisa in an hour and a quarter. The horses were put in in three minutes, and with the idea that Father Baldy was behind me, I turned round to say get up, but he was not there. I told an osler to go and look for him, with the intention of reprimanding him sharply, even if he had gone for a necessary occasion, for we had no time to waste, not even thus. The man came back saying he could not find him, to my great rage and indignation. I was tempted to abandon him, but a feeling of humanity restrained me. I made inquiries all round. Everybody had seen him, but not a soul knew where he was. I walked along the high street, and some instinct prompted me to put my head in at the window of the cafe. I saw the wretched man standing at the bar, drinking chocolate and making love to the girl. Catching sight of me, he pointed to the girl and said, she's charming, and then invited me to take a cup of chocolate, saying that I must pay as he hadn't a penny. I kept back my wrath and answered, I don't want any and do you make haste?  I paid the money and we went out. I trembled with anger. We got into our coach, but we had scarcely gone ten paces before I recognised an inhabitant of Mestra, named Balby Tomassie, a good man of sorts, but reported to be one of the familiars of the Holy Office. He knew me too, and coming up called out, I'm delighted to see you here. I suppose you've just escaped. How did you do it? I have not escaped, but have been set at liberty. No, no, that's not possible, as I was at Monsieur Grumman's yesterday evening, and I should have heard of it. It would be easier for the reader to imagine my state of mind than for me to describe it. I was discovered by a man whom I believed to be a hired agent of the government, who only had to give a glance to one of the Siberia with whom Mestra swarmed to have me arrested. I told him to speak softly, and getting down, I asked him to come to one side. I took him behind a house, and seeing that there was nobody in sight, a ditch in front, beyond which the open country extended, I grasped my pike and took him by the neck. At this he gave a struggle, slipped out of my hands, leapt over the ditch, and without turning round set off to run at full speed. As soon as he was some way off he slackened his course, turned round and kissed his hand to me, in token of wishing me a prosperous journey, and as soon as he was out of my sight, I gave thanks to God that this man by his quickness had preserved me from the commission of a crime, for I would have killed him, and he, as it turned out, bore me no ill will. I was in a terrible position. In open war with all the powers of the Republic, everything had to give way to my safety, which made me neglect no means of attaining my ends. With the gloom of a man who had passed through a great peril, I gave a glance of contempt towards the monk, who now saw to what danger he had exposed us, and then got up again into the carriage. We reached Travesa without further adventure, and I told the posting master to get me a carriage and two horses, ready by ten o'clock, though I had no intention of continuing my journey along the highway, both because I lacked means and because I feared pursuit. The innkeeper asked me if I would take any breakfast, of which I stood in great need, for I was dying with hunger, but I did not dare to accept his offer, as a quarter of an hour's delay might prove fatal. I was afraid of being retaken, and of being ashamed of it for the rest of my life, for a man of sense ought to be able to snap his fingers at four hundred thousand men in the open country, and if he cannot escape capture, he must be a fool. I went out by St Thomas's gate, as if I was going for a short walk, and after walking for a mile on the highway, I struck into the fields, resolving not to leave them as long as I should be within the borders of the Republic. The shortest way was by Bassano, but I took the longer path, thinking I might possibly be expected on the more direct road, while I would never think of my leaving the Venetian territory by way of Feltra, which is the longest way of getting into the state subject to the Bishop of Trent. After walking for three hours, I let myself drop to the ground, for I could not move a step further. I must either take some food or die there, so I told the monk to leave the cloak with me and go to a farm I saw, there to buy something to eat.  The miserable man did not know what courage was, but he was more robust than myself, and he had, doubtless, taken in provisions before leaving the prison. Besides, he had had some chocolate. He was thin and wiry, and a monk and mental anxieties were unknown to him. Although the house was not an inn, the good farmer's wife sent me a sufficient meal, which only cost me thirty Venetian sews. After satisfying my appetite, feeling that sleep was creeping on me, I set out again on the tramp, well braced up. In four hours' time, I stopped at a hamlet, and found that I was twenty-four miles from Travesa. I was done up, my ankles were swollen, and my shoes were in holes. There was only another hour of daylight before us, stretching myself out beneath the grove of trees. I made Father Balby sit by me, and discoursed to him in the manner following. We must make for Borgo di Falsogano. It is the first town beyond the borders of the Republic. We shall be as safe there as if we were in London, and we can take our ease for a while. But to get there, we must go carefully to work, and the first thing we must do is to separate. You must go by Mantello Woods, and I by the mountains. You by the easiest and shortest way, and I by the longest and most difficult. You with money, and I without a penny. I will make you a present of my cloak, which you must exchange for a great coat and a hat, and everybody will take you for a countryman, as you are luckily rather like one in the face. Take these 17 livras, which is all that remains to me of the two sequins Count Asquin gave me. You will reach Borgo by the day after tomorrow, and I shall be 24 hours later. Wait for me in the first inn on the left-hand side of the street, and be sure I shall come in due season. I require a good night's rest in a good bed, and Providence will get me one somewhere, but I must sleep without fear of being disturbed, and in your company that would be out of the question. I am certain that we are being sought for on all sides, and that our descriptions have been so correctly given that if we went into any inn together, we should be certain to be arrested. You see the state I am in, and my urgent necessity for a ten hours rest. Farewell then, do you go that way, and I will take this, and I will find somewhere near here a rest for the soul of my foot. I have been expecting you to say as much, said Father Baldy, and for answer I will remind you of the promise you gave me when I let myself be persuaded to break into your cell. You promised me that we should always keep company, and so don't flatter yourself that I shall leave you. Your fate and mine are linked together. We shall be able to get a good refuge for our money. We won't go to the inns, and no one will arrest us. You are determined are you not to follow the good advice I have given you? I am. We shall see about that. I rose to my feet, though with some difficulty, and, taking the measure of his height, I marked it out upon the ground. Then, drawing my pike from my pocket, I proceeded with the utmost coolness to excavate the earth, taking no notice of the questions the monk asked me. After working for a quarter of an hour, I set myself to gaze sadly upon him, and I told him that I felt obliged as a Christian to warn him to commend his soul to God. Since I am about to bury you here, alive or dead, and if you prove the stronger, you will bury me. You can escape if you wish to, as I shall not pursue you. He made no reply, and I betook myself to my work again, but I confessed that I began to be afraid of being rushed to extremities by this brute of whom I was determined to rid myself. At last, whether convinced by my arguments, or afraid of my pike, he came towards me. Not guessing what he was about, I presented the point of my pike towards him, but I had nothing to fear. I will do what you want, said he. I straightway gave him all the money I had, and promising to rejoin him at Borgo, I bet him farewell. Although I had not a penny in my pocket, and had two rivers to cross over, I congratulated myself on having got rid of a man of his character, for by myself I thought confident of being able to cross the bounds of the Republic.