In the midst of his thoughts the door was again opened, and Roake thrust in a plate of food and a can of water. This done, he quickly withdrew and closed the door.
The sight of the food reminded Leonard that he was hungry, though his occupation of mind had prevented him from thinking of it before. He ate of the coarse fare, and afterward took a cigar from his pocket and lit it.
He felt refreshed and strengthened, and his mind became more clear and active. Reclining on the pile of rough bed-clothes which lay in one corner of the apartment, he smoked and pondered.
At length his countenance was illumined by a sudden thought.
“I have it!” he exclaimed.
He forthwith took a number of letters from his pocket. A few were from Europe, his business relations having led him to engage in foreign correspondence, and were written in the German language. He selected one which occupied about two pages and a half.
Then, taking a gold pen and a portable inkstand from another pocket, he composed himself to write. He reflected for some moments before beginning, for he wished to comprise as much intelligence as possible within a few words.
Having arranged his thoughts into satisfactory shape, he began. First erasing the signature of the letter, he wrote an apparent continuation, in the German language, on the lower blank half of the third page. To this he appended another signature, so that the letter looked, in its new form, like a complete whole.
“So far so good,” he murmured; “and now for a visit from Snags. It won’t do to approach Roake. Snags, if anybody, will do the small favor I shall ask.”
The day wore wearily on. There was absolutely nothing to relieve the tedium of the passing hours. Leonard alternately walked, lay down, endeavored to sleep, and examinedhis prison. He fumed in impotent irritation at the sense of confinement.