It was a few days after this that Prometheus, denounced by the over-zealous waiter, found himself in prison for making matches without a licence.
The prison was isolated from the rest of the world, and its only outlook was on to the sky. From the outside it had the appearance of a tower. In the inside Prometheus was consumed by boredom.
The waiter paid him a visit.
—Oh! said Prometheus smiling, I am so happy to see you! I was bored to death. Tell me, you who come from outside; the wall of this dungeon separates me from everything and I know nothing about other people. What is happening?—And you, first tell me what you are doing.
—Since your scandal, replied the waiter nothing much; hardly anybody has been to the restaurant. We have lost a great deal of time in repairing the window.
—I am greatly distressed, said Prometheus;—but Damocles? Have you seen Damocles? He left the restaurant so quickly the other day; I was not able to say good-bye. I am so sorry. He seemed a very quiet person, well-mannered, and full of scruples; I was touched when he told me so naturally of his trouble.—I hope when he left the table he was happier?
—That did not last, said the waiter. I saw him the next day more uneasy than ever. In talking to me he cried. His greatest anxiety was the health of Cocles.
—Is he unwell? asked Prometheus.
—Cocles?—Oh no, replied the waiter. I will say more: He sees better since he sees with only one eye. He shows every one his glass eye, and is delighted when he is condoled with. When you see him, tell him that his new eye looks well, and that he wears it gracefully; but add how he must have suffered....