As soon as they had had their bath after the usual siesta, they had started for the prison, and at that hour the sun was still high and the streets were almost deserted. They were true friends and they cheerfully gave up these hours of amusement, which were indeed the most pleasant of the whole week, to the poor prisoner. It was a sacrifice, however, which brought its own reward.
The apartment in which the young men were on that afternoon assembled, did not by any means wear a dismal appearance, it suggested anything rather than a prison cell. The room was of moderate size and perfectly square. On either side of the door two large windows admitted light and air, and these could be closed by means of Venetian blinds. The door gave access to a tolerably wide verandah, the architraves of which rested on pillars in the Doric style; and this gallery was common to four other similar apartments which served the same purpose as that for which Grenits was immured—namely to deprive their occupants, for the time being, of liberty.
That verandah looked out upon a small but cheerful looking quadrangle, very tastefully laid out in grass plots and planted with flowering shrubs all covered with gay and many-coloured blossoms.
The little square was enclosed by the buildings which formed the jail, one of its sides being occupied by the governor’s house, a building which had a double row of pillars and whose spacious front-gallery was enlivened by a splendid collection of roses of all kinds, amongst which the thick double Persian rose, the fair Devoniensis, the Souvenir de la Malmaison and the fragrant tea-rose were conspicuous.
The room occupied by Grenits was very prettily furnished. It had a good table, a very comfortable seat something like a garden seat, and half-a-dozen chairs; all these of the best native workmanship. The walls were hung with four or five fairly good pictures, and a handsome lamp was suspended from the ceiling. The floor was almost entirely covered with tiles and these again were hidden by matting of the finest texture. But the most elegant piece of furniture the room contained was undoubtedly the piano which van Beneden had sent to the prison for his friend’s amusement. The bedroom, no less tastefully furnished than the apartment we have attempted to describe, was immediately adjacent to the sitting-room—so that Grenits had not much reason to complain, and his captivity was not very irksome. Said Grashuis, as he entered and looked around:
“Why, old fellow! this looks really very comfortable. This is the first time I have ever been inside a prison, and I had no idea the Government took such good care of the criminals it has to keep under lock and key.”
“That’s all you know about it!” laughed van Rheijn, “you ought to go and inspect the other side.”
“Where? on that side?” asked Grashuis as he pointed to the governor’s house.
“No, no,” said van Beneden, “yonder in that wing, that is where you ought to go and have a look. That would make you sing a different tune.”
“Shall we go?” cried Leendert as he rose from his seat.