He looked toward the gaoler.

Now the gaoler was a huge fellow, over six feet high and broad in
proportion, one who could have tackled Toro himself, as far as weight
and sheer brute strength went.

"Your excellency," replied Mathias, "when I leave this place, my exit
will be due to no violence. Bad as I am, I am not altogether what they
would make out."

"Poor Mathias!" said the governor ironically, "one would almost think
that murder was not his line of business."

"Your excellency," said the prison, drawing near to the grated window,
"I repent sincerely of that poor little gentleman's death; it was no
assassin's stab in the dark, but a most unfortunate blow in a fight,
remember,"

"Bravo! Mathias! bravo!" ejaculated the visitor.

The prisoner looked up.

A strange expression flitted across his face.

Mathias was an adept in the art of dissimulation, and his face was
schooled to tell neither more nor less than he wished.

"Now, your excellency," said the visitor, "this rascal appears
strangely self-possessed."