The jailer on this called one of the warders, and directed him to lead me to the English minister’s cell, and on no account to interrupt us. By the glance the warder gave me, I hoped that he had already been bribed by old Dame Trond, and that he would not interfere with our proceedings. I therefore followed him with a light step, passing through numerous passages to the room in which the prisoner was confined. The house had been hurriedly fitted up as a prison, the lofty rooms being divided into two storeys, and each room being again subdivided by passages into cages, rather than cells, so that the prisoners could be confined separately from each other. Many of them had very little light, and still less air; and, as far as I could judge, every cell almost had an occupant. It was fearful to contemplate what would be the probable fate of all those human beings, for it was well-known that of those imprisoned but a very small number escaped death.
“I conclude that Father Peter is already with the prisoner,” I observed, as I walked along.
The man glanced quickly round at me.
I showed him a gold piece in my hand. He immediately put out his to receive it, nodding at the same time.
“There,” he said at length, as we reached the door of the cell; “I need not look in, for I should not like to interrupt Father Peter, should he be at his devotions with the poor heretic. Go in, and may you have success in your undertaking.”
I observed that when he shut the door he did not again lock it or push to the bolts. The minister was seated with his back to the door when I entered. When at length he discovered that there was somebody in the cell, he rose from his seat, and, turning round, confronted me.
“I regret, sir, that you should have come,” he said, in a courteous voice. “You perhaps wish to make known to me the articles of your faith; but let me say in return that I know them thoroughly, and have no wish to embrace those which differ, I conceive, from the teaching of the Gospel.”
“I see you do not know me, Master Overton,” I said, in a low voice. “Do not utter any exclamation of surprise; I have come in the hopes of liberating you!”
“Who—who is it?” he exclaimed, in an undertone. “Ernst Verner? No, indeed, I should not have known you. But how do you expect to set me free?”
“You must assume the same disguise I wear,” I answered; “I have it prepared for you. They have allowed you, I see, a pallet-bed. You must leave your clothes upon it, stuffed out as we can best arrange them; so that, should the warder look in, he may suppose you to be asleep. Quickly put on these monkish habiliments. I have already spoken to them of having a companion; and I hope, before they expect any deception, we may have got outside the prison gates.”