For the purpose of conveying to the reader a clearer idea of the prison, I will take the liberty of giving the example of a fool who might make up his mind to run away from our prison.

Admitting that the brave fellow possessed supernatural, Herculean strength and broke the lock of his room--what would he find?
The corridor, with numerous grated doors, which could withstand cannonading--and armed keepers.
Let us suppose that he kills all the keepers, breaks all the doors, and comes out into the yard--perhaps he may think that he is already free.
But what of the walls?
The walls which encircle our prison, with three rings of stone?
I omitted the guard advisedly.

The guard is indefatigable.

Day and night I hear behind my doors the footsteps of the guard; day and night his eye watches me through the little window in my door, controlling my movements, reading on my face my thoughts, my intentions and my dreams.
In the daytime I could deceive his attention with lies, assuming a cheerful and carefree expression on my face, but I have rarely met the man who could lie even in his sleep.

No matter how much I would be on my guard during the day, at night I would betray myself by an involuntary moan, by a twitch of the face, by an expression of fatigue or grief, or by other manifestations of a guilty and uneasy conscience.