Escapes! Read Free Page A

stuck his head in the fireplace and peeked up the chimney. He quickly ducked back out and, brushing the soot off himself, shook his head. It was at least 30 feet to the top, and high up he could see layers of iron gratings, blocking the way.
    â€œWe could pry them out, one by one,” Latude suggested.
    â€œWith what? We have no tools,” Allègre answered. “And say we did, and could climb all the way up. We’d be at the top of the tower. How would we get down? It’s at least an 80-foot drop — straight into a moat! Not to mention the huge wall on the other side of that.”
    Latude counted off the obstacles on his fingers. They would need to make tools to remove the gratings. Plus ladders and ropes to climb up the chimney and down the tower wall, then to climb over the wall on the far side of the moat.
    And guards were always listening in at the door, surprising them with searches. They’d have to build everything in total silence, then hide it in a flash. Latude and Allègre looked around the nearly empty room and at its meager furniture. All of it was regularly searched.
    â€œWhere would we hide everything?” Allègre asked.
    They both fell silent. That was where their talk of escape always ended. They had no answer.

    Latude and Allègre lay on their cots, staring at the ceiling. Latude listened to the prisoner above pace back and forth, the floor creaking with every step. “What a racket,” he grumbled. “Why doesn’t he just sit down?”
    Allègre didn’t answer at first. Then his eyes widened. He sat up. “But listen to the prisoner below.”
    Latude shook his head. “I can’t hear a thing.”
    â€œNeither can I,” answered Allègre. He paused. “But in my last cell, I could hear the man above me and the man below me.”
    â€œBut there’s someone down there,” said Latude, sitting up. “I saw him myself on the way back from chapel.”
    So why couldn’t they hear him?
    â€œThere’s only one explanation!” Allègre whispered excitedly.
    â€œThere’s a space between the ceiling of the cell below and our own floor!” They both knew what that meant. A hiding place!
    At 6:30 p.m. the guard brought their supper. The prisoners lowered the hinged table from the wall and ate in silence. As the food was taken away, Latude and Allègre exchanged glances. They knew no one would disturb them until morning. The guards were settled in their routine, and the two men were model prisoners now.
    As soon as the door closed, Allègre and Latude began to wrench off the iron hinges that held the tabletop when it was down. They had their first tools! All they had to do was take their meals on their laps from now on and leave the table up.
    With his hinge Allègre pried up one of the floor tiles, and the two men began to scratch at the mortar beneath. For six hours they scraped, barely noticing the aches in their arms and backs. Latude wiped his brow and glanced up — it would be dawn soon. The first guard of the day would arrive at five a.m.
    Suddenly Allègre’s tool pierced through the mortar. Latude joined Allègre as he scrabbled in the dust, clearing it aside. Allègre peeked through the hole, then motioned to Latude to do the same. Latude had to stop himself from shouting out loud. There was an empty space between the floor and the ceiling below — and it was at least three feet deep.
    Allègre replaced the tile and carefully dotted mortar around it. No one would be able to tell it had been moved.
    The two men collapsed onto their beds, exhausted. But Latude’s head was spinning with happiness. He knew they were taking on a near-impossible task — and it would be painfully slow. But what did he have, other than time? From now on it was all he would think about by day, and toil at by night.
    Each evening after the guard left they set to work. First they ripped