A few seconds sufficed to clear the passage, through which it had previously cost him more than two hours to force his way.

The floor was strewn with screws, nails, fragments of wood and stone, and across the passage lay the heavy iron fillet.

He did not disturb any of this litter, but left it as a mark of his prowess.
He was now at the entrance of the chapel, and striking the door over which he had previously climbed a violent blow with the bar, it flew open.

To vault over the pews was the work of a moment; and having gained the entry leading to the Red Room he passed through the first door; his progress being only impeded by the pile of broken stones, which he himself had raised.
Listening at one of the doors leading to the Master Debtors' side, he heard a loud voice chanting a Bacchanalian melody, and the boisterous laughter that accompanied the song, convinced him that no suspicion was entertained in this quarter.

Entering the Red Room, he crept through the hole in the wall, descended the chimney, and arrived once more in his old place of captivity.
How different were his present feelings compared with those he had experienced on quitting it.