_Then_, though full of confidence, he half doubted his power of accomplishing his designs.

_Now_, he _had_ achieved them, and felt assured of success.

The vast heap of rubbish on the floor had been so materially increased by the bricks and plaster thrown down in his attack upon the wall of the Red Room, that it was with some difficulty he could find the blanket which was almost buried beneath the pile.

He next searched for his stockings and shoes, and when found, put them on.
While he was thus employed, his nerves underwent a severe shock.

A few bricks, dislodged probably by his last descent, came clattering down the chimney, and as it was perfectly dark, gave him the notion that some one was endeavouring to force an entrance into the room.
But these fears, like those he had recently experienced, speedily vanished, and he prepared to return to the roof, congratulating himself that owing to the opportune falling of the bricks, he had in all probability escaped serious injury.
Throwing the blanket over his left arm and shouldering the iron bar, he again clambered up the chimney; regained the Red Room; hurried along the first passage; crossed the Chapel; threaded the entry to the Lower Leads; and, in less than ten minutes after quitting the Castle, had reached the northern extremity of the prison.
Previously to his descent he had left the nail and spike on the wall, and with these he fastened the blanket to the stone coping.