disguised himself as a Turk, and penetrated into the Mussulman quarters,
but at the same time he was also in the service of the Grand Vizier, and
being detected in this course he certainly had reason to be thankful for
being allowed to die in The Wells. The rest of his life must have been
divided between weariness and hunger, but no doubt he often said, 'Dum
vita superest, bene est'.

I have seen at Spiegelberg, in Moravia, prisons fearful in another way.
There mercy sends the prisoners under sentence of death, and not one of
them ever survives a year of imprisonment. What mercy!

During the two mortal hours of suspense, full of sombre thoughts and the
most melancholy ideas, I could not help fancying that I was going to be
plunged in one of these horrible dens, where the wretched inhabitants
feed on idle hopes or become the prey of panic fears. The Tribunal might
well send him to hell who had endeavoured to escape from purgatory.

At last I heard hurried steps, and I soon saw Lawrence standing before
me, transformed with rage, foaming at the mouth, and blaspheming God and
His saints. He began by ordering me to give him the hatchet and the tools
I had used to pierce the floor, and to tell him from which of the guards
I had got the tools. Without moving, and quite calmly, I told him that I
did not know what he was talking about. At this reply he gave orders that
I should be searched, but rising with a determined air I shook my fist at
the knaves, and having taken off my clothes I said to them, "Do your
duty, but let no one touch me."

They searched my mattress, turned my bed inside out, felt the cushions of
my arm-chair, and found nothing.