A light came into my mind as brilliant as the sun. I was calm and self-possessed; my good angel recalled to me the friendly words of Pilate at our parting:
“Send for me if you get into trouble.”
I wrote as clearly and as rapidly as possible in the dim twilight:
“Tell all to Pontius Pilate. Be quick or I die!”
I put the parchment into the loaf and pressed its crust closely together again.
I now heard the stern voice of Magistus exclaim to some one:
“What are you dallying about?”
The basket ascended. I trembled. I almost fainted. My entire hope, my life, hung upon a thread—upon a hair!
How fortunate it was that I did not send up the parchment alone! My good angel guided me. Magistus looked into the basket, and seeing it ascend with the loaf in it, exclaimed,
“He is too weak to take out his bread. I will give him a little wine.”