We lay back on the straw in silence. I did a lot of thinking that
brought me little hope. Thoughts of Louison and Louise soon led me
out of prison. After a little time I went philandering in the
groves of the baroness with the two incomparable young ladies. I
would willingly have stood for another bullet if I could have had
another month of their company. The next thought of my troubles
came with the opening of the iron door. I had been sound asleep.
A guard came in with water and a pot of stewed beef and potatoes.

"Thet air's all right," said D'ri, dipping into it with a spoon.

We ate with a fine relish, the guard, a sullen, silent man with a
rough voice that came out of a bristling mustache, standing by the
door.

"Luk a-here," said D'ri to the guard as we finished eating, "I want
t' ast you a question. Ef you hed a purty comf'table hum on
t'other side, 'n' few thousan' dollars 'n the bank, 'n' bosses 'n'
everything fixed fer a good time, 'n' all uv a sudden ye found
yerself 'n sech a gol-dum dungeon es this here, what 'u'd you dew?"

The guard was fixing the wick of his candle, and made no answer.

"Want ye t' think it all over," said D'ri. "See ef ye can't think
o' suthin' soothin' t' say. God knows we need it."

The guard went away without answering.

"Got him thinkin'," said D'ri, as he lighted the candle. "He can
help us some, mebbe. Would n't wonder ef he was good et cipherin'."