ontinued my enemy, and
the slave of his orders; on his day of examination rules and commands in
all their rigour were observed, nor durst I free myself from my irons,
till I had for some weeks remarked those parts on which he invariably
fixed his attention. I then cut through the link, and closed up the
vacancy with bread. My hands I could always draw out, especially after
illness had consumed the flesh off my bones. Half a year had elapsed
before I had recovered sufficient strength to undertake, anew, labours
like the past.

Necessity at length taught me the means of driving Bruckhausen from my
dungeon, and of inducing him to commit his office to another. I learnt
his olfactory nerves were somewhat delicate, and whenever I heard the
doors unbar, I took care to make a stir in my night-table. This made him
give back, and at length he would come no farther than the door. Such
are the hard expedients of a poor unhappy prisoner!

One day he came, bloated with pride, just after a courier had brought the
news of victory, and spoke of the Austrians, and the august person of the
Empress-Queen with so much virulence, that, at last, enraged almost to
madness, I snatched the sword of an officer from its sheath, and should
certainly have ended him, had he not made a hasty retreat. From that day
forward he durst no more come without guards to examine the dungeon. Two
men always preceded him, with their bayonets fixed, and their pieces
presented, behind whom he stood at the door. This was another fortunate
incident, as I dreaded only his examination.

The following anecdote will afford a specimen of this man's
understanding. While digging in the earth I found a cannon-ball, and
laid it in the middle of my prison. When he came to examine--"What in
the name of God is that?" said he. "It is a part of the ammunition,"
answered I, "that my Familiar brings me. The cannon will be here anon,
and you will then see fine sport!" He was astonished, told this to
others, nor could conceive such a ball might by any natural means enter
my prison.

I wrote a satire on him, when the late Landgrave of Hesse-Cassel was
governor of Magdeburg; and I had permission to write as will hereafter
appear: the Landgrave gave it to him to read himself; and so gross was
his conception, that though his own phraseology was introduced, part of
his history and his character painted, yet he did not perceive the jest,
but laughed heartily with the heare