"'You will at least hand this ring to my wife when you deliver my message and await her answer?'
"'Yes, I will risk that much.'
"That night I slept in peace and had rapturous dreams of freedom.
"On the next day in the afternoon, when my wife left our home to go to her brother's seeking news of me, she was addressed by a mendicant friar, who had even to touch her arm before she took notice, as she walked as a woman asleep—mind lost in sorrow.
"'Do not start; pretend to give me alms and take this ring which your husband sends. He is alive and well but a prisoner. I am his friend and will take a written message to him. Should his friends seek to find his place of confinement he will be murdered. On each Tuesday at this hour, if you pass, I will bring you news of him. I must not be followed on his account.'
"'Oh! Where is he.'
"'I have told you all I dare. Return home and write him a brief message for which I shall wait; fold it closely and hand me as though it were a small coin.'
"Turning away the friar solicited alms of a passing merchant.
"In a few minutes my wife returned and when he again asked alms she dropped in his hand two florins and between them a note for me.
"That night at a late hour the friar called through the grating and when I answered told me of the meeting and dropped the two florins into my hand, stating he would read the note to me, which he did.