“‘You will not tell me then,’ said Laurent, ‘how you found your tools, but never fear, I shall find out how to make you speak.’
“‘If it be true,’ I replied, ‘that I have made a hole or two, I shall be prepared to prove that it is you who have furnished me with the tools, and that I have already returned them to you.’
“At this threat, which made one or two of his people smile, whom he had probably irritated by some act of rigour, he stamped on the ground, tore his hair, and rushed out of the place like one possessed. His people came back, and brought me all my effects, with the exception of the stove and lamp. Before quitting the corridor, and after he had closed my door, he shut up the windows by which I had received the supply of air, but, with all his knowledge of his trade, he heedlessly forgot to search my armchair; and so, thanks to Providence, I yet kept possession of my little crowbar.”
The next day Laurent brought the prisoner some provisions of the worst quality; and an archer, furnished with an iron bar, sounded the place everywhere--particularly under the bed.
“I observed,” says Cassanova, “that he did not notice the ceiling, so I at once fixed on that route for leaving this horrible place. I could attempt nothing however, without being instantly discovered. The cell was quite new, and the faintest mark of chisel or crowbar, would have been at once visible to my guardians.”
On the following days Laurent continued to bring him food it was almost impossible to swallow, and to refuse to allow him either to have his cell cleaned, or to open the windows. On the eighth day, Cassanova vented his impatience in some angry words, and asked for a reckoning of the money belonging to him in his jailer’s hands. Laurent promised to furnish it next day, and in the meantime he brought the prisoner a basket of lemons, and a nice roast fowl, on the part of M. de Bragadin.
“When he had brought my account I cast my eyes over it, and told him to give the odd money to his wife, with the exception of one sequin, which was to be presented to the archers who waited on me. Laurent then being left alone with me, addressed me thus: ‘You have already said Monsieur, that it was from me you received the tools with which you made that enormous hole. I am inquisitive enough about that, but more so about another thing. In the name of Fortune, how _did_ you contrive to make your lamp?’ ‘You assisted me in that, as in the other matters,’ I replied. ‘Oh!’ he exclaimed, adding after a few moments, when he had recovered from his astonishment, ‘I did not think wit consisted in lying and effrontery.’ ‘I am not lying: it is you who with your own hands gave me all that was necessary--oil, flint, matches,--I already had the rest.’ ‘You are right: but you cannot convince me so easily that I supplied you with the tools for digging that enormous hole.’ ‘Assuredly, for I received nothing from anybody but you.’ ‘Mercy, what do I hear! tell me how, when, and where I gave you a hatchet!’ ‘I will tell you everything; and I will speak the truth, but it can only be in presence of the secretary.’ ‘I don’t want to know anything more, and I believe all you have said,’ returned Laurent hastily; ‘I beg of you to be silent, for remember I am but a poor man, and have children.’ He then went, pressing his hands to his head.