s, and take our
hearts to us."

Just then the gaoler came up to them.

"Birds of a feather, eh?" said he, with not unkindly humour. For a
gaoler, he was not a hard man. "Mistress Benden, your allowance is
threepence by the day--what shall I fetch you?"

The prisoners were permitted to buy their own food through the prison
officials, up to the value of their daily allowance. Alice considered a
moment.

"A pennyworth of bread, an' it like you, Master; a farthing's worth of
beef; a farthing's worth of eggs; and a pennyworth of ale. The
halfpenny, under your good pleasure, I will keep in hand."

Does the reader exclaim, Was that the whole day's provision? Indeed it
was, and a very fair day's provision too. For this money Alice would
receive six rolls or small loaves of bread, a pound of beef, two eggs,
and a pint of ale,--quite enough for supper and breakfast. The ale was
not so much as it seems, for they drank ale at every meal, even
breakfast, only invalids using milk. To drink water was thought a
dreadful hardship, and they had no tea or coffee.

The gaoler nodded and departed.

"Look you, Mistress Benden," said Rachel Potkin, "I have thought by
times to try, being here in this case, on how little I could live, so as
to try mine endurance, and fit me so to do if need were. Shall we essay
it together, think you? Say I well?"

"Very well, Mistress Potkin; I were fain to make the trial. How much is
your allowance by the day?"

"The like of yours--threepence."

"We will try on how little we can keep in fair health," said Alice with
a little laugh, "and save our money for time of more need. On what
shall we do it, think you?"

"Why, I reckon we may look to do it on fourpence betwixt us."

"Oh, surely!" said Alice. "Threepence, I well-nigh think."

While this bargain was being made, Mr Benden sat down to supper, a pork
pie standing before him, a dish of toasted cheese to follow, and a
frothed tankard of ale at his elbow. Partly owing to her mistress's
exhortations, Mary had changed her tactics, and now sought to mollify
her master by giving him as good a supper as she knew how to serve. But
Mr Benden was hard to please this evening. "The pork is as tough as
leather," he declared; "the cheese is no better than sawdust, and the
ale is flat as ditch-water." And he demanded of Mary, in rasping tones,
if she expected such rubbish to agree with him?

"Ah!" said Mary to herself as she shut the door