of having the sweeping done with
greater care, he lighted a candle. This let me know that the rascal was
suspicious of something; but I was crafty enough to take no notice of
him, and so far from giving up my plea, I only thought how I could put it
on good train. Next morning I pricked my finger and covered my
handkerchief with the blood, and then awaited Lawrence in bed. As soon as
he came I told him that I had coughed so violently as to break a
blood-vessel, which had made me bring up all the blood he saw. "Get me a
doctor." The doctor came, ordered me to be bled, and wrote me a
prescription. I told him it was Lawrence's fault, as he had persisted in
having the room swept. The doctor blamed him for doing so, and just as if
I had asked him he told us of a young man who had died from the same
cause, and said that there was nothing more dangerous than breathing in
dust. Lawrence called all the gods to witness that he had only had the
room swept for my sake, and promised it should not happen again. I
laughed to myself, for the doctor could not have played his part better
if I had given him the word. The guards who were there were delighted,
and said they would take care only to sweep the cells of those prisoners
who had angered them.

When the doctor was gone, Lawrence begged my pardon, and assured me that
all the other prisoners were in good health although their cells were
swept out regularly.

"But what the doctor says is worth considering," said he, "and I shall
tell them all about it, for I look upon them as my children."

The blood-letting did me good, as it made me sleep, and relieved me of
the spasms with which I was sometimes troubled. I had regained my
appetite and was getting back my strength every day, but the time to set
about my work was not yet come; it was still too cold, and I could not
hold the bar for any length of time without my hand becoming stiff. My
scheme required much thought. I had to exercise boldness and foresight to
rid myself of troubles which chance might bring to pass or which I could
foresee. The situation of a man who had to act as I had, is an unhappy
one, but in risking all for all half its bitterness vanishes.

The long nights of winter distressed me, for I had to pass nineteen
mortal hours in darkness; and on the cloudy days, which are common enough
at Venice, the light I had was not sufficient for me to be able to read.
Without any distractions I fell back on the idea of my escap