the reader imagine my joy at having in a manner made light in the midst
of darkness, and it was no less sweet because against the orders of my
infamous oppressors. Now there was no more night for me, and also no more
salad, for though I was very fond of it the need of keeping the oil to
give light caused me to make this sacrifice without it costing me many
pangs. I fixed upon the first Monday in Lent to begin the difficult work
of breaking through the floor, for I suspected that in the tumult of the
carnival I might have some visitors, and I was in the right.

At noon, on Quinquagesima Sunday, I heard the noise of the bolts, and
presently Lawrence entered, followed by a thick-set man whom I recognized
as the Jew, Gabriel Schalon, known for lending money to young men.

We knew each other, so exchanged compliments. His company was by no means
agreeable to me, but my opinion was not asked. He began by congratulating
me on having the pleasure of his society; and by way of answer I offered
him to share my dinner, but he refused, saying he would only take a
little soup, and would keep his appetite for a better supper at his own
house.

"When?"

"This evening. You heard when I asked for my bed he told me that we would
talk about that to-morrow. That means plainly that I shall have no need
of it. And do you think it likely that a man like me would be left
without anything to eat?"

"That was my experience."

"Possibly, but between ourselves our cases are somewhat different; and