ganized a working-party of fourteen offi* cers, who were to relieve each other regularly in the work, one always remaining on guard near the excavation, to prevent a trap being set for the capture of the remainder of the party, in ¢ase of discovery by the prison officials. Having succeeded in lifting out the bottom of the fire-place, in the cook-room, they removed the bricks from the back of the flue, and penetrated between the floor-joists into the cellar, under the end room, used as a hospital. Passing through this aperture, they could with facility lower each other into the cellar. An opening was commenced in the wall, near the north-east corner of the cellar. This opening was about two feet by 2ighteen inches. It was found necessary to cut through the piles by which the building was supported; and this tedious labor was at length successfully completed, with no other tools than pocketknives. As they penetrated into the earth, great difficulty was experienced on account of the candles, which refused to burn in the close air of the tunnel. One of the party was compelled to stand constantly at the opening, fanning air into it with his hat."
The tunnel was about fifty-three feet long, and so small in diameter that, in order to pass through, it was necessary 0 lie flat on one's face, propelling with ye hand and the feet, the other hand eing thrown over the back, to diminish he breadth of the shoulders, and carry, vith greater facility, overcoat, rations, etc.
Early in the evening of the gth of *"ebruary, as I was seated at the cardible, deeply interested in the mysteries nd uncertainties of short whist, Ranolph tapped me on the shoulder. "The ork is finished," he said; "the first arty went through soon after dark; aere's no time to lose;" and the hand t whist remains yet to be played.
Every one knew it then! We posiessed only the advantage of being per fectly cool, and having a plan agreed upon. The excitement in the prison was of the wildest kind. Parties were formed, plans arranged, farewells exchanged, all in less time than one can describe.
After bidding numerous enthusiasts, who hadn't the faintest idea what we were about, "good-by," and "Godspeed," we at last reached the kitchen. Affairs there did not look very propitious for us. At the least calculation, two hundred and fifty men were crowded together in the lower end of the room, each waiting his chance to descend into the cellar.
The Rebel sentinels were pacing up and down within a few yards of this narrow door of our deliverance, and had but to look through the unglazed windows to see it all: conversation was, therefore, carried on in whispers, and we were in total darkness. Here an unexpected incident occurred, which, while it for the moment appeared to blast every hope of escape, proved in the end to be our greatest help. A stampede took place. Some timid gentleman, becoming nervous, or perhaps frightened, succeeded in communicating in an instant his alarm to the whole body, and a simultaneous rush, with indescribable din, for the other end of the room and the stairs leading to the sleeping-rooms above, was the consequence.
Knocked downand separated, we three found ourselves at the lower end of the now almost deserted room. We listened. No sound of approaching guard. Perhaps no discovery had yet been made, and one of the party crept down to the window, just in time to hear a sentinel speak the memorable words, "I reckon somebody's coffee-pot's upset."
All was safe yet, for so accustomed had the guard become to our usual riotous proceedings, that even the noise of the stampede failed to awaken susp cions. Then was our time; and we ir
