But was that enough? Dim, formless suspicions of something more vital wandered about his mind. Acquainted with every part of the jail, Jack well knew that his only chance of effecting an escape must be by the roof. She could smell the savory tinge of his sweat in the air. Cautioning the knight, if he valued his neck, to tread carefully, Jonathan then descended a steep flight of steps; and, having reached the bottom in safety, he pushed open a door, that swung back on its hinges as soon as it had admitted him; and, followed by Trenchard, entered the night-cellar.
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