d regular life, or else a legacy handed down with his fiery
spirit from some former churchman or crusader who had greater regard for
the helmet than the miter or from a gladiator or soldier ancestry.

"He was always absent during the day and I, having nothing to do to
occupy my time, and knowing the importance not only because of my
calling but for my health of retaining my muscular flexibility and
strength, spent several hours each day climbing around upon and swinging
from the bars of the iron cage until finally the rust was worn away and
they grew polished from contact with my hands and feet.

"After several months of this I grew so expert and tireless that in
giving lessons to my soldier pupil I no longer found it necessary to use
the ladder, but swung from the grating, easing first one arm and then
the other through the long lesson. One night after he had gone through
his sword manual without hesitancy, much less mistake, I said:

"'It is time to throw away that toy and practice with a real weapon, to
accustom your arm and hand to the weight and feel of a real sword. When
my wife passes you on Tuesday tell her to procure a heavy short sword
for you from her brother and to send mine with body armor and helmets
for both of us, piece by piece as you can bring it. After we are armed,
if I can only get through this grating, we need have no fear of the gate
guards.'

"If I am taken or caught you will starve in your dungeon.

"I have thought of that. We must procure the key from the prelate by
some subterfuge. Let us first possess our swords and armor, then we will
get the key and both escape.

"Within the week the friar made two visits to my house and each time
when he left, beneath his outer robe, he wore a corselet and carried a
heavy short sword and helmet. We discovered my wife had converted each
helmet into a store room which I robbed for a substantial meal.

"The fear that my kind jailer might be removed or not appear from some
casualty had caused me to store away a small supply of food and water in
a corner of my cell.

"My sword and helmet the friar passed through the grating and when I
placed the one upon my head and grasped the familiar handle of the
other, new hope kindled in my heart. The corselets were concealed under
the couch of my jailer, as mine could not be passed through the grating.

"When he returned that night I called to my companion of the upper story
saying; 'Why not go to the custodian