In this manner I obtained a week’s respite, but at the end of that time the lout gave orders that my cell should be swept.  He had the bed carried out into the garret, and on pretence of having the sweeping done with greater care, he lighted a candle.  This let me know that the rascal was suspicious of something; but I was crafty enough to take no notice of him, and so far from giving up my plea, I only thought how I could put it on good train.  Next morning I pricked my finger and covered my handkerchief with the blood, and then awaited Lawrence in bed.  As soon as he came I told him that I had coughed so violently as to break a blood-vessel, which had made me bring up all the blood he saw.  “Get me a doctor.”  The doctor came, ordered me to be bled, and wrote me a prescription.  I told him it was Lawrence’s fault, as he had persisted in having the room swept.  The doctor blamed him for doing so, and just as if I had asked him he told us of a young man who had died from the same cause, and said that there was nothing more dangerous than breathing in dust.  Lawrence called all the gods to witness that he had only had the room swept for my sake, and promised it should not happen again.  I laughed to myself, for the doctor could not have played his part better if I had given him the word.  The guards who were there were delighted, and said they would take care only to sweep the cells of those prisoners who had angered them.

When the doctor was gone, Lawrence begged my pardon, and assured me that all the other prisoners were in good health although their cells were swept out regularly.

“But what the doctor says is worth considering,” said he, “and I shall tell them all about it, for I look upon them as my children.”

The blood-letting did me good, as it made me sleep, and relieved me of the spasms with which I was sometimes troubled.  I had regained my appetite and was getting back my strength every day, but the time to set about my work was not yet come; it was still too cold, and I could not hold the bar for any length of time without my hand becoming stiff.  My scheme required much thought.  I had to exercise boldness and foresight to rid myself of troubles which chance might bring to pass or which I could foresee.  The situation of a man who had to act as I had, is an unhappy one, but in risking all for all half its bitterness vanishes.

The long nights of winter distressed me, for I had to pass nineteen mortal hours in darkness; and on the cloudy days, which are common enough at Venice, the light I had was not sufficient for me to be able to read.  Without any distractions I fell back on the idea of my escape, and a man who always thinks on one subject is in danger of becoming a monomaniac.  A wretched kitchen-lamp would have made me happy, but how am I to get such a thing?  O blessed prerogative of thought! how happy was I when I thought I had found a way to possess myself of such a treasure!  To