Without replying, as one accustomed to obey such orders, the jailer provided himself in a few moments with the articles required. He placed an unlighted candle in the lantern, and the two proceeded to the door of the jail.
"He is your only prisoner, I believe?" said Spikeman.
"None other," answered Bars.
"Remain outside by the door. I would speak a moment with him."
The jailer, in silence, put one key into the lock and opened the door, and gave another to Spikeman, and then stationed himself as directed, outside.
Spikeman entered, and closed the door after him; then striking a light, advanced like one well acquainted with the place. The space wherein he found himself was an entry or passage-way, some four feet wide, running along the four sides of the prison, and enclosing the cells in the middle, The security of the prisoners was greatly promoted by this arrangement, two walls being necessary to be broken in order to effect escape, and communication with persons without being thus made more difficult.
The Assistant advanced, until he came to the door of a cell which was closed, and which he knew from that circumstance was occupied, and unlocking it, stepped within. He stopped, and throwing around the light from the lantern, beheld the form of the soldier extended on some straw spread in a corner, and apparently asleep. Philip was indeed in a profound slumber. Relieved from the painful incumbrance of the irons which had prevented his lying down, and kept him consequently in a constrained posture, he was enjoying a luxury hard to be realized except by one in a condition as wretched as his own. Spikeman threw the light full upon his face, but it failed to awaken him. He only smiled, and muttering something indistinctly, turned upon his pallet, the irons on his wrists clanking as he moved. The Assistant stood looking at him awhile, and then pronounced his name, at first in a low tone, and afterwards louder. Even this did not banish sleep, and Spikeman was obliged to shake him by the shoulder before he could be aroused. It was then the soldier, without opening his eyes, demanded, drowsily, what was the matter. "You waked me, Bars," he said, "from such a grand dream. I wish you would let me alone."
"Arouse thyself and look up," said the Assistant. "It is not the jailer, but a friend, who desires thy good."
"It is Master Spikeman," said the soldier, sitting up and rubbing his eyes, "but I wish you had not disturbed my dream. I thought I was free again."
"I came to restore to thee that liberty whereof thou wert only dreaming."