My Ten Years' Imprisonment [54]
all a reign of terror here," said he, "even as regards myself. Should I not execute my orders to the rigour of the letter, you would no longer see me here." Schiller made a long face, and I could have wagered he said within himself, "But if I were at the head, like you, I would not carry my apprehensions so very far; for to give an opinion on a matter of such evident necessity, and so innocuous to government, would never be esteemed a mighty fault."
When left alone, I felt my heart, so long incapable of any deep sense of religion, stirred within me, and knelt down to pray. I besought a blessing upon the head of old Schiller, and appealing to God, asked that he would so move the hearts of those around me, as to permit me to become attached to them, and no longer suffer me to hate my fellow-beings, humbly accepting all that was to be inflicted upon me from His hand.
About midnight I heard people passing along the gallery. Keys were sounding, and soon the door opened; it was the captain and his guards on search.
"Where is my old Schiller?" inquired I. He had stopped outside in the gallery.
"I am here--I am here!" was the answer. He came towards the table, and, feeling my pulse, hung over me as a father would over his child with anxious and inquiring look. "Now I remember," said he, "to- morrow is Thursday."
"And what of that?" I inquired.
"Why! it is just one of the days when the doctor does not attend, he comes only on a Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Plague on him."
"Give yourself no uneasiness about that!"
"No uneasiness, no uneasiness!" he muttered, "but I do; you are ill, I see; nothing is talked of in the whole town but the arrival of yourself and friends; the doctor must have heard of it; and why the devil could he not make the extraordinary exertion of coming once out of his time?"
"Who knows!" said I, "he may perhaps be here tomorrow,--Thursday though it will be?"
The old man said no more, he gave me a squeeze of the hand, enough to break every bone in my fingers, as a mark of his approbation of my courage and resignation. I was a little angry with him, however, much as a young lover, if the girl of his heart happen in dancing to press her foot upon his; he laughs and esteems himself highly favoured, instead of crying out with the pain.
CHAPTER LXI.
I awoke on Thursday morning, after a horrible night, weak, aching in all my bones, from the hard boards, and in a profuse perspiration. The visit hour came, but the superintendent was absent; and he only followed at a more convenient time. I said to Schiller, "Just see how terribly I perspire; but it is now growing cold upon me; what a treat it would be to change my shirt."
"You cannot do it," he said, in a brutal tone. At the same time he winked, and moved his hand. The captain and guards withdrew, and Schiller made me another sign as he closed the door. He soon opened it again, and brought one of his own shirts, long enough to cover me from head to feet, even if doubled.
"It is perhaps a little too long, but I have no others here."
"I thank you, friend, but as I brought with me a whole trunk full of linen, I do hope I may be permitted the use of it. Have the kindness to ask the superintendent to let me have one of my shirts."
"You will not be permitted, Sir, to use any of your linen here. Each week you will have a shirt given you from the house like the other prisoners."
"You see, good man, in what a condition I am. I shall never go out of here alive. I shall never be able to reward you."
"For shame, Sir! for shame!" said the old man. "Talk of reward to one who can do you no good! to one who dare hardly give a dry shirt to a sick fellow creature in a sweat!" He then helped me on with his long shirt, grumbling all the while, and slammed the door to with violence on going out, as if he had been in a great rage.
About two hours after, he brought me a piece of black bread. "This," he said, "is your two days' fare!" he then began to walk about in a sulky mood.
"What is the matter?" I inquired;
When left alone, I felt my heart, so long incapable of any deep sense of religion, stirred within me, and knelt down to pray. I besought a blessing upon the head of old Schiller, and appealing to God, asked that he would so move the hearts of those around me, as to permit me to become attached to them, and no longer suffer me to hate my fellow-beings, humbly accepting all that was to be inflicted upon me from His hand.
About midnight I heard people passing along the gallery. Keys were sounding, and soon the door opened; it was the captain and his guards on search.
"Where is my old Schiller?" inquired I. He had stopped outside in the gallery.
"I am here--I am here!" was the answer. He came towards the table, and, feeling my pulse, hung over me as a father would over his child with anxious and inquiring look. "Now I remember," said he, "to- morrow is Thursday."
"And what of that?" I inquired.
"Why! it is just one of the days when the doctor does not attend, he comes only on a Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Plague on him."
"Give yourself no uneasiness about that!"
"No uneasiness, no uneasiness!" he muttered, "but I do; you are ill, I see; nothing is talked of in the whole town but the arrival of yourself and friends; the doctor must have heard of it; and why the devil could he not make the extraordinary exertion of coming once out of his time?"
"Who knows!" said I, "he may perhaps be here tomorrow,--Thursday though it will be?"
The old man said no more, he gave me a squeeze of the hand, enough to break every bone in my fingers, as a mark of his approbation of my courage and resignation. I was a little angry with him, however, much as a young lover, if the girl of his heart happen in dancing to press her foot upon his; he laughs and esteems himself highly favoured, instead of crying out with the pain.
CHAPTER LXI.
I awoke on Thursday morning, after a horrible night, weak, aching in all my bones, from the hard boards, and in a profuse perspiration. The visit hour came, but the superintendent was absent; and he only followed at a more convenient time. I said to Schiller, "Just see how terribly I perspire; but it is now growing cold upon me; what a treat it would be to change my shirt."
"You cannot do it," he said, in a brutal tone. At the same time he winked, and moved his hand. The captain and guards withdrew, and Schiller made me another sign as he closed the door. He soon opened it again, and brought one of his own shirts, long enough to cover me from head to feet, even if doubled.
"It is perhaps a little too long, but I have no others here."
"I thank you, friend, but as I brought with me a whole trunk full of linen, I do hope I may be permitted the use of it. Have the kindness to ask the superintendent to let me have one of my shirts."
"You will not be permitted, Sir, to use any of your linen here. Each week you will have a shirt given you from the house like the other prisoners."
"You see, good man, in what a condition I am. I shall never go out of here alive. I shall never be able to reward you."
"For shame, Sir! for shame!" said the old man. "Talk of reward to one who can do you no good! to one who dare hardly give a dry shirt to a sick fellow creature in a sweat!" He then helped me on with his long shirt, grumbling all the while, and slammed the door to with violence on going out, as if he had been in a great rage.
About two hours after, he brought me a piece of black bread. "This," he said, "is your two days' fare!" he then began to walk about in a sulky mood.
"What is the matter?" I inquired;