"Until I had been registered as dead frugal meals had been furnished from the kitchen. Now the supply from that source was cut off, except that the friar, by giving the cook a florin each week and telling him that he desired a lunch before retiring, had been able to procure something.
"This was cold and rather a short ration for a man whose appetite was always keen and who had boasted and demonstrated that he could eat a quarter of lamb or a hen at a single meal.
"The friar supplemented this by purchases of fruit and cakes, which he brought to the cell in deep pockets stitched on the lining of his robe, so while I was always hungry, I did not suffer or lose strength.
"He explained the situation to my wife and she filled his pockets with packages of bread, meat, cheese and sweets, so that on each Tuesday night I counted on quite a feast. She also kept him supplied with money to make such purchases as he could carry through the portal without detection by the watchful gatemen.
"We tried all sorts of keys in our effort to unlock the grating, but were unsuccessful. We even had a locksmith make a key from a defective wax impression, but this failed of purpose. The bars might have been cut out with hammer and chisel except the noise would have brought the watchman.
"The friar made a sword of heavy wood and at night when the others slept I would climb up the ladder to the grating and instruct him in its use.
"Could one of the order have seen him, in the brass lamp's flickering light, making passes and warding off imaginary thrusts with his wooden sword, prancing and jumping back and forth in his narrow cell, clothed only in his under garments, and heard a hollow voice as from a tomb, calling out orders and directing his movements, he would have been convinced that the ancient cloisters were tenanted by ghosts or evil spirits.
"I cannot understand how the swordsman, who for years had worn cowl and habit, could have developed the muscular strength he possessed; which, with his quickness of movement, eye and thought, at the very start of his training made him a dangerous antagonist. He seemed to have the combined strength of several men. It must have been the reward of a clean and regular life, or else a legacy handed down with his fiery spirit from some former churchman or crusader who had greater regard for the helmet than the miter or from a gladiator or soldier ancestry.
"He was always absent during the day and I, having nothing to do to occupy my time, and knowing the importance not only because of my calling but for my health of retaining my muscular flexibility and strength, spent several hours each day climbing around upon and swinging from the bars of the iron cage until finally the rust was worn away and they grew polished from contact with my hands and feet.
"After several months of this I grew so expert and tireless that in giving lessons to my soldier pupil I no longer found it necessary to use the ladder, but swung from the grating, easing first one arm and then the other through the long lesson. One night after he had gone through his sword manual without hesitancy, much less mistake, I said: