I found myself in a kind of round cellar, paved with large flagstones,
and lighted by five or six narrow slits in the walls. The officer told me
I must order what food required to be brought once a day, as no one was
allowed to come into the 'calabozo', or dungeon, by night.

"How about lights?"

"You may lave one lamp always burning, and that will be enough, as books
are not allowed. When your dinner is brought, the officer on duty will
open the pies and the poultry to see that they do not contain any
documents; for here no letters are allowed to come in or go out."

"Have these orders been given for my especial benefit?"

"No, sir; it is the ordinary rule. You will be able to converse with the
sentinel."

"The door will be open, then?"

"Not at all."

"How about the cleanliness of my cell?"

"A soldier will accompany the officer in charge of your dinner, and he
will attend to your wants for a trifle."

"May I amuse myself by making architectural plans with the pencil?"

"As much as you like."