On reflection, I was well pleased at the turn affairs had taken.

An excellent dinner was set before me, but I had no chair or table. The
deficiency was remedied by the soldier who was in charge of me for the
consideration of a duro.

Prisoners were not allowed to have pen and ink without special
permission; but paper and pencils were not included under this
regulation, so my guard got them for me, together with candles and
candlesticks, and I proceeded to kill time by making geometrical
calculations. I made the obliging soldier sup with me, and he promised to
commend me to one of his comrades who would serve me well. The guard was
relieved at eleven.

On the fourth day the officer of the guard came to me with a distressed
look, and told me that he had the disagreeable duty of giving me some
very bad news.

"What is that, sir?"

"I have received orders to transfer you to the bottom of the tower."

"To transfer me?"

"Yes."

"Then they must have discovered in me a criminal of the deepest dye! Let
us go at once."