Conyngham had well gauged the distance and direction that the tunnel should take to bring him out at the edge of the common outside of the prison walls. The earth as it was dug up was concealed under the mattresses, and from thence transferred to the pockets of the prisoners, who carried it out handful by handful when they were in the corridor, the privileges of the jail-yard being now denied them. During the day and when the men were not working, for they had arranged the labor and divided the time into watches of half an hour each, the stone that concealed the opening was itself hidden by one of the straw pallets.
The guards continued to be unsuspicious, and one night, late in October, the two men who were at work in the farthest end of the tunnel came quickly back announcing that they were so close to the surface that the earth was beginning to break and crumble. It was very fortunate that they had found beneath the first layer of soft sand a stratum of hard clay mixed with gravel, which required no prop or support to prevent its caving. Work now for a time was suspended, Conyngham concluding to wait for the moonlight nights, and yet to choose one when the light would not be too brilliant. The hour settled upon was when the shadow of the prison would lie heavy upon the spot where the breaking out would take place.
No better night could one imagine than that of the first Monday of November, when every one was warned to make ready for escape. Conyngham himself led the way and dug, lying on his back with the earth falling all about him, until at last he could feel the free air as his hand broke through the upper crust. In three minutes more a hole was made sufficiently large to admit of his thrusting forth his head and shoulders.
It was dangerous indeed, for should a sentry happen by any chance to be in the vicinity, not only might the discovery lead at once to the detection of the plot, but also to death by a musket-ball. No one was in sight! The deep black shadows lay heavy under the high wall, and above it towered the great roof of the prison. Beyond them rose the square watch-tower against the gray misty moonlit sky. All at once he heard a voice behind him. It was evident that if he did not take care, the very eagerness of the men to make their way out would prove their own undoing, for they had already begun jostling and shoving one another, despite the stringent orders he had given. With great difficulty he forced his way back through the hole, and there in a few earnest words impressed upon them the necessity for caution and patience. Order restored and the muttering stopped, he drew himself by sheer strength out of the hole and rose to his knees on the ground outside. One after another the men were pulled forth. All went well until the last man’s turn came. I say “man,” but in reality he was a huge overgrown boy, whose weeks of imprisonment had not appeared to have reduced his bulk, for he stuck fast in the hole and apparently could not be moved either one way or the other. If the position had not been so full of danger it might have been found amusing, but every minute’s delay increased the prospect of discovery, so they struggled to relieve the fat boy from his predicament. Three men had hold of one of his arms, when suddenly he gave a sharp cry. He once had been hurt or wounded, and in their endeavors to release him they had broken the large bone of his forearm. However, after his first outcry the poor fellow said nothing, and by dint of digging and more careful hauling they succeeded in releasing him.
