the morning sun was playing about those iron bars; pigeons were hovering about with outspread wings, whilst others were lovingly cooing on the roof or near the still closed window.
Cornelius ran to that window and opened it; it seemed to him as if new life, and joy, and liberty itself were entering, with this sunbeam, into his cell, which, so dreary of late, was now cheered and irradiated by the light of love.
When Gryphus, therefore, came to see his prisoner in the morning, he no longer found him morose and lying in bed, but standing at the window, and singing a little ditty.
“Halloa!” exclaimed the jailor.
“How are you this morning?” asked Cornelius.
Gryphus looked at him with a scowl.
“And how is the dog, and Master Jacob, and our pretty Rosa?”
Gryphus ground his teeth, saying,—
“Here is your breakfast.”
“Thank you, friend Cerberus,” said the prisoner; “you are just in time, I am very hungry.”
“Oh! you are hungry, are you?” said Gryphus.
“And why not?” asked Van Baerle.
“The conspiracy seemed to thrive,” remarked Gryphus.
“What conspiracy?”
“Very well, I know what I know, Master Scholar; just be quiet, we shall be on our guard.”
“Be on your guard, friend Gryphus; be on your guard, as long as you please; my conspiracy as well as my person is entirely at your service.”
“We’ll see that at noon.”
Saying this, Gryphus went out.
"At noon?” repeated Cornelius; “what does that
