And curiously Topándy felt no pain in his heart as he thought over it.
"Death is after all the best solution of life!"
He did not shed a single tear upon the letter he wrote: he sealed it and looked for a servant to despatch it.
But other thoughts occupied him.
"My dear sir, when do you want to lock me up?"
"When you like, sir."
"Would you not take me to gaol immediately?"
"With pleasure, sir."
"How many years have they given me?"