As soon as he was free, he got the tools he judged necessary, and
went down.
The door was of strong sound oak, with ornate iron hinges right
across it. He was on the better side for opening it, that is, the
inside, but though the ends of the hinges were exposed, the door was
so well within the frame that it was useless to think of heaving
them off the bearing-pins. The huge lock and its bolt were likewise
before him, but the key was in the lock from the other side, so that
it could not be picked; while the nails that fastened it to the door
were probably riveted through a plate. But there was the socket into
which the bolt shot! that was merely an iron staple! he might either
force it out with a lever, or file it through! Having removed the
roughest of the rust with which it was caked, and so reduced its
thickness considerably, he set himself to the task of filing it
through, first at the top then at the bottom. It was a slow but a
sure process, and would make no great noise.
Although it was broad daylight outside, so like midnight was it here
and the season that belongs to the dead, that he was haunted with
the idea of a presence behind him. But not once did he turn his head
to see, for he knew that if he yielded to the inclination, it would
but return the stronger. Old experience had taught him that the way
to meet the horrors of the fancy is to refuse them a single
hair's-breadth of obedience.
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