The Jailor or the Liberator

We noticed the jailor’s demeanour change ever since his son joined us here. He stopped howling like a wild dog, bullying us for no just cause and extorting food and money from us. Perhaps, he had seen how agonizing it felt to be here.

Now, he spoke in whispers, with his son and a prison warder.

Late one night, the alarm bell boomed and roused everybody from sleep. It was unprecedented.

Fleeting torchlights flickered indiscriminately. Footsteps thudded against the cold floors, amidst loud voices.

The news suddenly went round: someone had broken out through the underground tunnel. The jailor’s son!


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