Bartolomeo stopped for a moment; being a prudent man, he at once foresaw what was to be done. Throwing his green coat across his shoulders, he approached Benedetto. He tore the embroidered coat from his body, and replaced it by his own, and, together with the kalpak, which Benedetto had thrown aside, completed his toilet.
Hastily strapping the dagger to his side, he left the torture chamber. At the door he met the soldiers, who did not recognize him, and saluted him as he passed. His thoughts were not regarding his own safety—he desired to rescue Aslitta if possible.
CHAPTER XXX
IN THE WELL
The subterranean prison into which Aslitta had been thrown was dark as pitch, and it was a long time before his eyes became accustomed to the darkness and he could make out his surroundings. He remembered that he had descended many steps, and he supposed that his cell was in the casemates of the citadel.
He soon discovered that the cell was very narrow but high; about ten feet above his head he found an opening, secured by iron bars. All attempts to reach this proved futile, and he could secure no foothold on the slippery walls.
What should he do? At any moment the door might be opened, and his captors enter and lead him to the torture-chamber, or, perhaps, to his doom. He did not fear death itself—but what would become of Luciola in case he died? The last meeting of the patriots was to take place this very evening. As it was, there were but a few of these in comparison to the number of their oppressors, and if but one remained away the good work might be seriously hampered.