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Updated: June 29, 2025
It is said to have been written in prison in France, where he had been carried on his subsequent voyage, which forms the subject of the next section, and was composed at the importunity of his fellow traveller and fellow-prisoner, Mr George Gage, the son of Sir Edward Gage.
One day there was a fellow-prisoner working in the room adjoining me; he complained to the mining boss that he did not want to go into that room to work because he thought it was dangerous. The officer in charge thought differently, and told him to go in there and go to work or he would report him. The prisoner hadn't been in the place more than a half hour before the roof fell and buried him.
On the very next morning his steward came to demand my annual rent, which, by reason of the accidents already related, I was unable to pay. On the following day two officers of justice took me to the county gaol. There is no situation, however wretched it seems, but has some sort of comfort attending it; and I found mine in the help and kindness of a fellow-prisoner, Mr.
I had prepared myself, you may be sure, pen, ink, and paper beforehand, and I had gotten a letter ready directed to my governess, and enclosed another for my fellow-prisoner, which, however, I did not let her know was my husband, not to the last.
He recalled the incidents in the life of the escaped galley-slave Coignard, who, under the name of Pontis de St. Helene, absolutely assumed the rank of a general officer, and took command of a domain. Coignard was recognized and betrayed by an old fellow-prisoner, and this was exactly the risk that Paul knew he must run, for any of his old companions might recognize and denounce him.
Just as Mr Reardon was stooping to attend to his fellow-prisoner, he had made a tremendous cat-like bound, driving me sidewise as he alighted on Mr Reardon's back, making at the same time a would-be deadly stroke with a small knife he had managed to keep hidden in the folds of his cotton jacket.
But at the same time prepare me also a lodging: for I hope that through your prayers I shall be given unto you. There salute thee Epaphras, my fellow-prisoner in Christ Jesus; Mark, Aristarchus, Demas, Luke, my fellow-labourers. The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with thy spirit. Amen. Written to Philemon from Rome, by Onesimus one of his household.
The repugnance felt by Sainte-Croix for his fellow-prisoner did not last long, and the clever master found his pupil apt. Sainte-Croix, a strange mixture of qualities good and evil, had reached the supreme crisis of his life, when the powers of darkness or of light were to prevail.
Here we got a bite of supper and were permitted to lie before the fire. My fellow-prisoner took off his boots and was soon sound asleep. I took off nothing and, despite exhaustion, remained equally sound awake. One of the guards also removed his footgear and outer clothing, placed his weapons under his neck and slept the sleep of innocence; the other sat in the chimney corner on watch.
But the time had come when, either through the fear of losing what he had risked so much to gain, or from the impelling force of that unseen agency which seeks a companion or a confidant, he had confided to his fellow-prisoner the hiding-place of the old man's wealth the money stained with the life-blood of his master.
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