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Page 35
"And I am to be buried alive here?" said Israel, ruefully looking round.
"But your resurrection will soon be at hand," smiled the Squire; "two
days at the furthest."
"Though to be sure I was a sort of prisoner in Paris, just as I seem
about to be made here," said Israel, "yet Doctor Franklin put me in a
better jug than this, Squire Woodcock. It was set out with boquets and a
mirror, and other fine things. Besides, I could step out into the entry
whenever I wanted."
"Ah, but, my hero, that was in France, and this is in England. There you
were in a friendly country: here you are in the enemy's. If you should
be discovered in my house, and your connection with me became known, do
you know that it would go very hard with me; very hard indeed?"
"Then, for your sake, I am willing to stay wherever you think best to
put me," replied Israel.
"Well, then, you say you want boquets and a mirror. If those articles
will at all help to solace your seclusion, I will bring them to you."
"They really would be company; the sight of my own face particularly."
"Stay here, then. I will be back in ten minutes."
In less than that time, the good old Squire returned, puffing and
panting, with a great bunch of flowers, and a small shaving-glass.
"There," said he, putting them down; "now keep perfectly quiet; avoid
making any undue noise, and on no account descend the stairs, till I
come for you again."
"But when will that be?" asked Israel.
"I will try to come twice each day while you are here. But there is no
knowing what may happen. If I should not visit you till I come to
liberate you--on the evening of the second day, or the morning of the
third--you must not be at all surprised, my good fellow. There is plenty
of food-and water to last you. But mind, on no account descend the
stone-stairs till I come for you."
With that, bidding his guest adieu, he left him.
Israel stood glancing pensively around for a time. By and by, moving the
rolled mattress under the two air-slits, he mounted, to try if aught
were visible beyond. But nothing was to be seen but a very thin slice of
blue sky peeping through the lofty foliage of a great tree planted near
the side-portal of the mansion; an ancient tree, coeval with the ancient
dwelling it guarded.
Sitting down on the Mattress, Israel fell into a reverie.
"Poverty and liberty, or plenty and a prison, seem to be the two horns
of the constant dilemma of my life," thought he. "Let's look at the
prisoner."
And taking up the shaving-glass, he surveyed his lineaments.
"What a pity I didn't think to ask for razors and soap. I want shaving
very badly. I shaved last in France. How it would pass the time here.
Had I a comb now and a razor, I might shave and curl my hair, and keep
making a continual toilet all through the two days, and look spruce as a
robin when I get out. I'll ask the Squire for the things this very night
when he drops in. Hark! ain't that a sort of rumbling in the wall? I
hope there ain't any oven next door; if so, I shall be scorched out.
Here I am, just like a rat in the wainscot. I wish there was a low
window to look out of. I wonder what Doctor Franklin is doing now, and
Paul Jones? Hark! there's a bird singing in the leaves. Bell for dinner,
that."
And for pastime, he applied himself to the beef and bread, and took a
draught of the wine and water.
At last night fell. He was left in utter darkness. No Squire.
After an anxious, sleepless night, he saw two long flecks of pale gray
light slanting into the cell from the slits, like two long spears. He
rose, rolled up his mattress, got upon the roll, and put his mouth to
one of the griffins' months. He gave a low, just audible whistle,
directing it towards the foliage of the tree. Presently there was a
slight rustling among the leaves, then one solitary chirrup, and in
three minutes a whole chorus of melody burst upon his ear.
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