These commands having been duly executed, two of the guards led their
prisoner down into the cellar, which appeared to be Diurbanu's
antechamber for such visitors as came to him with troublesome petitions.
Not satisfied with conducting him to the main or outer cellar,
Manasseh's escort opened the iron door leading into an inner
compartment, pushed him through it, and closed the portal upon him,
after bidding him take a seat and make himself comfortable.

Manasseh found himself in almost total darkness. Only an air-hole over
his door admitted a very feeble light from the dimly illumined outer
cellar. He began to consider his situation, comforting himself with the
reflection that at Monastery Heights he had been treated in much the
same fashion, except that there his hands had not been bound. He had
been kept in confinement all night, and in the morning his terms of
peace had been accepted. This time, too, he hoped for a like issue.

When a cigar is smoked in the dark it lights up the smoker's face at
each puff. Suddenly a voice from out of the gloom called, "Manasseh!"

"Who is there?"

"I."

It was a gipsy, whose voice Manasseh recognised. "How came you here,
Lanyi?" he asked.

"Diurbanu had me locked up--the devil take him!"

"What grudge had he against you?"

"He ordered me to play to him while he sat at dinner," explained the
gipsy; "but I told him I wouldn't do it."

"Why not?"

"Because I won't make music for my country's enemies."

His country, poor fellow! What share had he in that country beyond the
right to tramp the public highway, and make himself a mud hut for
shelter?

"Then he gave me a cuff," continued the gipsy, "had me shut up here, and
promised to hang me. Well, he may break me on the wheel, for aught I
care, but I won't play for him even if he smashes my fiddle for
refusing."

"Well, don't be down-hearted, my little man," said Manasseh, cheerily.

"I'm not a bit down-hearted," declared the other. "I only thought I'd
ask you not to throw away your cigar-stump when you've finished smoking.
You can walk, your feet are free; come here when you are through with
your cigar, and let it fall into my mouth, so that I can chew it."

"But you'll find it a hot mouthful."

"So much the better."

This cynical gipsy phlegm exactly suited Manasseh's mood, and he exerted
himself to cheer the poor fellow up, promising to secure his release as
soon as he himself should gain an audience with Diu