citadel. It was not large, but it had a window, well barred, through
which came the good strong light of the northern sky. A wooden bench for
my bed stood in one corner, and, what cheered me much, there was a small
iron stove. Apart from warmth, its fire would be companionable, and to
tend it a means of passing the time. Almost the first thing I did was to
examine it. It was round, and shaped like a small bulging keg on end.
It had a lid on top, and in the side a small door with bars for draught,
suggesting to me in little the delight of a fireplace. A small pipe from
the side carried away the smoke into a chimney in the wall. It seemed to
me luxurious, and my spirits came back apace.

There was no fire yet, and it was bitter cold, so that I took to walking
up and down to keep warmth in me. I was ill nourished, and I felt the
cold intensely. But I trotted up and down, plans of escape already
running through my head. I was as far off as you can imagine from that
event of the early morning, when I stood waiting, half frozen, to be
shot by Lancy's men.

After I had been walking swiftly up and down for an hour or more,
slapping my hands against my sides to keep them warm--for it was so cold
I ached and felt a nausea--I was glad to see Gabord enter with a soldier
carrying wood and shavings. I do not think I could much longer have
borne the chilling air--a dampness, too, had risen from the floor, which
had been washed that morning--for my clothes were very light in texture
and much worn. I had had but the one suit since I entered the dungeon,
for my other suit, which was by no means smart, had been taken from me
when I was first imprisoned the year before. As if many good things had
been destined to come at once, soon afterwards another soldier entered
with a knapsack, which he laid down on the bench. My delight was great
when I saw it held my other poor suit of clothes, together with a rough
set of woollens, a few handkerchiefs, two pairs of stockings, and a wool
cap for night wear.

Gabord did not speak to me at all, but roughly hurried the soldier at
his task of fire-lighting, and ordered the other to fetch a pair
of stools and a jar of water. Meanwhile I stood near, watching, and
stretched out my skinny hands to the grateful heat as soon as the fire
was lighted. I had a boy's delight in noting how the draught pumped the
fire into violence, shaking the stove till it puffed and roared. I
was so filled, that moment, with