"Do you know we can make you eat it?"

"You try, and I promise you that you will get it back in double quick
time," I retorted significantly and defiantly.

"Well, what would you like to eat?"

"Like to eat?" I repeated. "Why, I could do with a six-course dinner,"
was my sarcastic rejoinder, feeling confident that he had merely asked
the question to tantalise me. But seeing that he really meant what he
said I rattled off a complete menu, not forgetting the cup of black
coffee and an Egyptian cigarette. Feeling that the officer was in
reality the prison doctor I grew reckless and cynical.

"Well, I'm damned!" was his ejaculatory comment when I had finished. And
he gave a loud, long laugh.

My temper was rising, and I think my face must have betrayed my wish to
strangle him, because he continued, "You've got money, and you can buy
one meal a day from outside if you like. I'll grant you your gluttonous
feed to-day--except the cigarette--seeing that you've eaten nothing for
three days. The cigarette is impossible: it is quite against the rules
and regulations of the prison. But to-morrow you'll have to rest content
with a plate of meat and vegetables."

After he had left the cell I came to the conclusion that he had been
merely having a huge joke at my expense. But ten minutes later the
gaoler entered bearing two big trays upon which were arrayed the six
courses. My eyes glittered with a wolfish greed, but I restrained