CHAPTER XLIII.



At the windows of the side prisons I recognised six other prisoners,
all there on account of politics. Just then, as I was composing my
mind to perfect solitude, I found myself comparatively in a little
world of human beings around me. The change was, at first, irksome
to me, such complete seclusion having rendered me almost unsociable,
add to which, the disagreeable termination of my correspondence with
Julian. Still, the little conversation I was enabled to carry on,
partly by signs, with my new fellow-prisoners, was of advantage by
diverting my attention. I breathed not a word respecting my
correspondence with Julian; it was a point of honour between us, and
in bringing it forward here, I was fully aware that in the immense
number of unhappy men with which these prisons were thronged, it
would be impossible to ascertain who was the assumed Julian.

To the interest derived from seeing my fellow-captives was added
another of a yet more delightful kind. I could perceive from my
large window, beyond the projection of prisons, situated right
before me, a surface of roofs; decorated with cupolas, campanili,
towers, and chimneys, which gradually faded in a distant view of sea
and sky. In the house nearest to me, a wing of the Patriarchal
palace, lived an excellent family, who had a claim to my gratitude,
for expressing, by their salutations, the interest which they took
in my fate. A sign, a word of kindness to the unhappy, is really