"Well, I certainly had hoped you would have placed in me that amount of confidence."
"No. I dare not."
"Dare not?"
"Yes, that is the word. The knowledge of my name spread abroad—that is to say, my real name, would inflict much misery for all, I can just now say to the contrary, upon one whom I yet wish all the happiness that God can give his creatures in this world. Let it be thought that I and the world have parted company."
"You are a strange man."
"I am. But the story I have to tell of the doings in this den of infamy, will come as well from a Mr. Smith as from any one else."
"I wish you now, in a few words, to relate to me what you know, fully and freely."
"Anticipating that a statement would be wanted, I have, with no small amount of trouble, manufactured for myself pens and ink, and have written all that I have to say. How can I give you the document?"
"There is a chink here in the wall, through which I am addressing you. Can you pass it through?"
"I will try. I see the chink now for the first time since my long and painful residence here. Your light upon the other side has made it quite apparent to me. I think, by folding my paper close, I can pass it through to you."