n, and surveyed it, shuddering.

"For the prisoner's sake," said Elizabeth. "Who knows but a cruel
keeper may be put in Laval's place? He is almost dead with grief, that
prisoner is,--I know by his face. After he is gone, there won't be any
prisoner there,--and we could make it very pleasant."

"Pleasant! What do you mean by pleasant?" asked Pauline, inwardly vexed
that her child had suggested the question,--and yet too just, too
kindly disposed, to put the subject away with imperative refusal to
consider it. "I never was in a place so horrid."

"But if it was our home, and all our things were there," urged
Elizabeth, "it would be different. It depends on who lives in a house,
you know."

"Yes, that is so; it depends a little, but not entirely. It would be
more than your mother could do to make a pleasant-looking place out of
that prison. You see it is different in the situation, to begin with.
Up where we live the sun is around us all day, if it is anywhere; and
then the little rooms are so light! If you put a flower into them, you
think you have a whole garden. Besides, it's Home up there, and down
here it isn't."--Saying this, Adolphus rose up quickly, as though he
had a mind to quit the spot.

"When they select a man to fill Laval's place, of course they will be
careful to choose one as good and kind," said Pauline, with mild
confidence.

"The jailer before him was not good and kind," remarked her daughter.

"They dismissed him for it," said Adolphus, quickly.

"But they said the prisoners were half-starved, and abused every way.
It was a good while before it was found out. That might happen again,
and less chance of any one knowing it. He is so near dead now, it
wouldn't take much to kill him."

No one replied to this argument. Pauline and Adolphus talked of other
things, and the musician returned to his music. But all in good time.
Elizabeth was capable of patience, and at last her father said, looking
around him to make sure that his remark would have only two
listeners,--

"That prisoner isn't a man to be talked of about here. You never heard
_me_ mention him. Laval used to give a--a--bad account of him. He had
to be kept alive."

"Till he heard your music, papa, and was moved up to the room with a
window. Did he tell you that?" asked Elizabeth.

"He said he thought the music did him good," acknowledged Adolphus.

"May-be it was the same as with Saul when David played for him. But he
does not lo