“Well said, Mistress Benden. Let us therefore give thanks, and take our hearts to us.”
Just then the gaoler came up to them.
“Birds of a feather, eh?” said he, with not unkindly humour. For a gaoler, he was not a hard man. “Mistress Benden, your allowance is threepence by the day—what shall I fetch you?”
The prisoners were permitted to buy their own food through the prison officials, up to the value of their daily allowance. Alice considered a moment.
“A pennyworth of bread, an’ it like you, Master; a farthing’s worth of beef; a farthing’s worth of eggs; and a pennyworth of ale. The halfpenny, under your good pleasure, I will keep in hand.”
Does the reader exclaim, Was that the whole day’s provision? Indeed it was, and a very fair day’s provision too. For this money Alice would receive six rolls or small loaves of bread, a pound of beef, two eggs, and a pint of ale,—quite enough for supper and breakfast. The ale was not so much as it seems, for they drank ale at every meal, even breakfast, only invalids using milk. To drink water was thought a dreadful hardship, and they had no tea or coffee.
The gaoler nodded and departed.
“Look you, Mistress Benden,” said Rachel Potkin, “I have thought by times to try, being here in this case, on how little I could live, so as to try mine endurance, and fit me so to do if need were. Shall we essay it together, think you? Say I well?”
“Very well, Mistress Potkin; I were fain to make the trial. How much is your allowance by the day?”
“The like of yours—threepence.”