with them.

For several weeks one or two soldiers were habitually kept in the hall
with us, during the day. The turnkey, who was the presiding imp in that
wing--the ghoul of our part of the catacombs--was rarely absent, but
passed back and forth, prying and suspicious. Scott (familiarly Scotty)
was the name of the interesting creature who officiated as our immediate
keeper, for the first four months of our confinement in this place. He
was on duty only during the day. At night a special guard went the
rounds. The gas-burners, with which each cell was furnished, were put
into use as soon as we were locked up, and we were allowed (for a time)
to burn candles for an hour after the hour for which the gas was turned
on had expired. We were permitted to buy books and keep them in our
cells, and for some weeks were not restricted in the number of letters
which we might write. Indeed for a period of nearly three months our
condition was uncomfortable only on account of the constant confinement
within the walls of the prison--the lack of exercise, and sun-light, and
free air, and the penning up at night in the close cells. To a man who
has never been placed in such a situation, no words can convey the
slightest idea of its irksomeness. There was not one of us who would not
have eagerly exchanged for the most comfortless of all the prisons,
where he could have spent the days in the open air, and some part of the
time have felt that the eyes of the gaolers were not upon him. Every
conceivable method of killing time, and every practical recreation was
resorted to. Marbles were held in high estimation for many days, and the
games were played first, and discussed subsequently with keen interest.
A long ladder, which had been left in the hall, leaning against the
wall, was a perfect treasure to those who most craved active exercise.
They practiced all sorts of gymnastics on this ladder, and cooled the
fever in their blood with fatigue. Chess finally became the standard
amusement, and those who did not understand the game watched it
nevertheless with as much apparent relish as if they understood it.
Chess books were bought and studied as carefully as any work on tactics
had ever been by the same men, and groups would spend hours in
discussing this gambit and that, and an admiring audience could always
be collected at one end of the hall to hear how Cicero Coleman had just
checkmated an antagonist at the other, by a judicious flank movem