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All he had was a flashlight, and I broke that over his head. But he tole me the same story about the jailer all except the gun." This testimony was volunteered by Poole's cellmate. Peter removed his cigar and looked at the "damned skunk" more closely. "Why, if it ain't Mr. Poole!" he said. "Sure, it's Poole. What in hell does he mean, then swearin' you into jail and then breakin' you out?"
"We have not b-b-bungled!" he stuttered angrily. "Shut up, you fool!" their leader shouted. "Captain Smith" had leaped to his feet, quivering with anger. But it was too late. His cellmate, by answering to the name of "Mirov," had given away their nationality! Tom and Ames exchanged grins of triumph. "No doubt you recall what happened to Streffan Mirov," Tom went on, pressing his advantage.
He had awakened and found his undesired cellmate missing, and the window was clear. So that way he could have gone, though there were many who believed the door itself had been opened to him. In any event, he saw freedom without, and suspected wrong and treachery within. Why should he not go? Who was to blame him?
Before daybreak the first morning he terrified his cellmate, Kedzie, by starting up in his sleep with a gasp: "Was that reveille? My God, I'll be late!" The joy of finding himself no longer in a tent and of falling back on his pillow was worth the bad dream. Life was one long bad dream to Kedzie. She was guilty whichever way she turned, and afraid of both men. Jim had a valet to wait on him.
For cellmate he had Barthlet Green, who parted from him only to meet an agonizing death in the flames, as an arch-heretic. Dee himself was threatened with the stake, and was actually placed on trial for his life before the dread Court of the Star Chamber. But he seems to have had, throughout his entire career, a singularly plausible manner, and a magnetic, winning personality.
"Did you stick to your story?" asked his cellmate. "Of course," said he. "Well, if it is true," remarked the other, "there'll be something doing soon." And there was. About an hour later the sergeant came again and entered. He drew the two men into a corner. "See here, young fellow," he said to Samuel in a low voice. "Have you got anything against young Lockman?" "No," replied Samuel. "Why?"
At no moment of their lives can they command the slightest privacy. And what right to privacy, you ask, has a prisoner? Would he not use it to cut his way through the chilled steel walls with his teeth and nails, or to plot revolt with his cellmate? Possibly; but even a beast seeks privacy at certain junctures; and to deny all privacy tends to bestialize human beings.
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