Even now, during the recurring doubts of the future, the thought of the island was repellent. "Go on first with the light," he said. Ah, no, I have it wrong. But though he made Blueskin and Kettleby his chief marks, he missed both. He had now reached what was called the Lower Leads,—a flat, covering a part of the prison contiguous to the gateway, and surrounded on all sides by walls about fourteen feet high. Having drunk as much as he thought prudent, and thanked his unknown friend for his attention, Jack again lay down on the straw, and indulged himself with another nap, intending to get up as soon as it was perfectly dark.
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