“Bravo!” cried his leader, in a most stentorian howl! “now I begin to have some hope of you.”
I was not overproud at being thus rated a little less of a brute than the rest; yet I felt a sort of pleasure that these wretched men had come to some agreement as to the importance of cultivating, in some degree, more benevolent sentiments.
I again approached the window, the chief called me, and I answered, hoping that I might now moralise with him in my own way. I was deceived; vulgar minds dislike serious reasoning; if some noble truth start up, they applaud for a moment, but the next withdraw their notice, or scruple not to attempt to shine by questioning, or aiming to place it in some ludicrous point of view.
I was next asked if I were imprisoned for debt?
“Perhaps you are paying the penalty of a false oath, then?”
“No, it is quite a different thing.”
“An affair of love, most likely, I guess?”
“No.”
“You have killed a man, mayhap?”
“No.”