Once I took my fellow-prisoner and my jailer to my villa at Svabhegy, where my wife had made ready for us a splendid supper. I tapped my new wine, and we amused ourselves to such a very late hour that when we returned they would hardly let us into prison again. Fortunately we had the Provost with us, and with our assistance he managed to force his way in.
In the whole course of my life I never received so many visitors as during the _month_ that my _year's_ captivity lasted. In the following month, by the way, I had to make room for the editor of the _officious_ government, who was also condemned by the court-martial for disturbing the public peace.
I was sought out in my dungeon by all sorts of good friends, who came from far--lords and ladies, countesses and actresses. It happened once that a magnate's wife, who was a great invalid, and therefore could not ascend to the second flight where our prison was, begged us to come down to her carriage, and there we received our visitor in the street--poor slaves that we were!
How could I work when my admirers were crowding at my latch all day long? At last I had to beg my jailer, with tears in my eyes, to sentence me to _solitary_ confinement for a couple of hours every day, and write on my door the hours when I was free to receive company. "Wasn't I in prison?" I said.
I had an honest Bohemian lad as my servant. His name was Wenceslaus. We soon got to understand each other very well.
I explained to him that at certain hours when I was sitting down to work nobody was to be admitted--except when a pretty woman came to see me.
And singularly enough, one cannot imagine a more convenient place for an assignation than such a dungeon as mine. I only wonder that our _bon-viveurs_ have not grasped the fact. And what a capital place for an afternoon nap such a locality really is! The best advice I can give to any one who suffers from sleeplessness is--get yourself locked up! Is it not a special mercy of Providence that slaves can sleep so soundly?
One afternoon Wenceslaus aroused me from my sweet afternoon nap with the intimation that a pretty woman wanted to speak to me.
It was indeed "oh yes!" for it was Bessy.
She was dressed in complete mourning, with a black silk veil over her head. I saw from her eyes that she was in mourning for my fate.