I was horror-struck. Could ferocity of disposition proceed to such
lengths? and could a monster, capable of such a deed, hold the
insulting language of a man superior to all human weaknesses? to
murder the innocent, and a child!



CHAPTER X.



In my new prison, black and filthy to an extreme, I sadly missed the
society of my little dumb friend. I stood for hours in anxious,
weary mood, at the window which looked over a gallery, on the other
side of which could be seen the extremity of the court-yard, and the
window of my former cell. Who had succeeded me there? I could
discern his figure, as he paced quickly to and fro, apparently in
violent agitation. Two or three days subsequently, I perceived that
he had got writing materials, and remained busied at his little
table the whole of the day. At length I recognised him. He came
forth accompanied by his jailer; he was going to be examined, when I
saw he was no other than Melchiorre Gioja. {4} It went to my heart:
"You, too, noble, excellent man, have not escaped!" Yet he was more
fortunate than I. After a few months' captivity, he regained his
liberty. To behold any really estimable being always does me good;
it affords me pleasant matter for reflection, and for esteem--both
of great advantage. I could have laid down my life to save such a
man from captivity; yet merely to see him was some consolation to
me. After regarding him intently, some time, to ascertain if he
were tranquil or agitated, I offered up a heart-felt prayer for his