The system of exchange, which was usual then as now, was in abeyance during the religious war in Germany.

There was an almost personal hatred between the combatants, and, as Malcolm knew, many of his compatriots who had fallen into the hands of the Imperialists had been treated with such harshness in prison that they had died there.
Some, indeed, were more than suspected of having been deliberately starved to death.
However, Malcolm had gone through so many adventures that even the scene which he had witnessed and his own captivity and uncertain fate were insufficient to banish sleep from his eyes, and he reposed as soundly on the heap of straw in the corner of his cell as he would have done in the carved and gilded bed in the apartment which had been assigned to him in the castle.
The sun was shining through the loophole of his dungeon when he awoke.
For an hour he occupied himself in polishing carefully the magnificently inlaid armour which Wallenstein had presented him, and which, with the exception of his helmet, he had not laid aside when he sat down to the banquet, for it was very light and in no way hampered his movements, and except when quartered in towns far removed from an enemy officers seldom laid aside their arms.

He still retained his sword and dagger, for his captors, in their haste to finish the first act of the tragedy, and to resist any rising which might take place among the soldiery, had omitted to take them from him when they hurried him away.
On examination he found that with his dagger he could shove back the lock of the door, but this was firmly held by bolts without.

Thinking that on some future occasion the blade might be useful to him, he pushed the dagger well into the lock, and with a sharp jerk snapped it off at the hilt.

Then he concealed the steel within his long boot and cast the hilt through the loophole.
Presently a soldier brought him his breakfast--a manchet of bread and a stoup of wine.