I fell in with the rest.
We were marched out and around to the gate of the prison.
Now, it so happened that just as we neared the gate of the prison, the prisoners were being marched from the Stockade.

The officer in charge of us--we numbering possibly about ten--undertook to place us at the head of the column coming out, but the guard in charge of that squad refused to let him do so.

We were then ordered to stand at one side with no guard over us but the officer who had brought us from the Hospital.
Taking this in at a glance, I concluded that now was my chance to make my second attempt to escape.

I stepped behind the gate office (a small frame building with only one room), which was not more than six feet from me, and as luck (or Providence) would have it, the negro man whose duty it was, as I knew, to wait on and take care of this office, and who had taken quite a liking for me, was standing at the back door.

I winked at him and threw him my blanket and the cup, at the same time telling him in a whisper to hide them away for me until he heard from me again.