“He has gone out.”
“Do you know why he keeps me here in confinement?”
“No,” said the woman, hastily. “I know nothing. I see much, but I know nothing.”
“Are many prisoners brought here as I have been?” asked our hero, in spite of the woman’s refusal to speak.
“No.”
“I can’t understand what object they can have in detaining me. If I were rich, I might guess, but I am poor. I am compelled to work for my daily bread, and have been out of a place for two weeks.”
“I don’t understand,” she said, in a low voice, rather to herself than to him. “But I cannot wait. I must not stand here. I will come up in fifteen minutes, and if you wish another cup of tea, or some toast, I will bring them.”
His confinement did not affect his appetite, for he enjoyed his tea and toast; and when, as she had promised, the woman came up, he told her he would like another cup of tea, and some more toast.
“Will you answer one question?” asked our hero.
“I don’t know,” answered the woman in a flurried tone.