The white men were late in retiring to rest, after an evening spent in drinking.
At dead of night, when all was still, the slave arose from the floor, upon which he had been lying, looked around and saw that Morpheus had possession of his captors.

For once, thought he, the brandy bottle has done a noble work.

With palpitating heart and trembling limbs, he viewed his position.

The door was fast, but the warm weather had compelled them to leave the window open.

If he could but get his chains off, he might escape through the window to the piazza.