Having set the stew upon the table, she retired
with a glance of pity, whereon (remembering pity's kinsman) I decided
that she should pity me a little more. She returned with a bottle and a
glass, and found me sitting on the bed with my hands over my face,
looking the very picture of abject misery, and, like all pictures, rather
untruthful. As I watched her, through my fingers, out of the room again,
I felt sure that she was exceedingly sorry for me. Her back being
turned, I set to work and ate my dinner, which was excellent.
She returned in about an hour to take away; and there came with her a man
who had a great bunch of keys at his waist, and whose manner convinced me
that he was the jailor. I afterwards found that he was father to the
beautiful creature who had brought me my dinner. I am not a much greater
hypocrite than other people, and do what I would, I could not look so
very miserable. I had already recovered from my dejection, and felt in a
most genial humour both with my jailor and his daughter. I thanked them
for their attention towards me; and, though they could not understand,
they looked at one another and laughed and chattered till the old man
said something or other which I suppose was a joke; for the girl laughed
merrily and ran away, leaving her father to take away the dinner things.
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