The inspector visited, one after another, the cells and dungeons of several of the prisoners, whose good behavior or stupidity recommended them to the clemency of the government. He inquired how they were fed, and if they had any request to make. The universal response was, that the fare was detestable, and that they wanted to be set free.
The inspector asked if they had anything else to ask for. They shook their heads. What could they desire beyond their liberty? The inspector turned smilingly to the governor.
“I do not know what reason government can assign for these useless visits; when you see one prisoner, you see all,—always the same thing,—ill fed and innocent. Are there any others?”
“Yes; the dangerous and mad prisoners are in the dungeons.”
“Let us visit them,” said the inspector with an air of fatigue. “We must play the farce to the end. Let us see the dungeons.”
“Let us first send for two soldiers,” said the governor. “The prisoners sometimes, through mere uneasiness of life, and in order to be sentenced to death, commit acts of useless violence, and you might fall a victim.”
“Take all needful precautions,” replied the inspector.
Two soldiers were accordingly sent for, and the inspector descended a stairway, so foul, so humid, so dark, as to be loathsome to sight, smell, and respiration.
“Oh,” cried the inspector, “who can live here?”
“A most dangerous conspirator, a man we are ordered to keep the most strict watch over, as he is daring and resolute.”