How eagerly did I seize the Basket, on finding it to contain a loaf of coarse bread and a small bottle of water.
I threw myself with avidity upon these humble aliments.

They had to all appearance been placed in the Vault for several days; The bread was hard, and the water tainted; Yet never did I taste food to me so delicious.

When the cravings of appetite were satisfied, I busied myself with conjectures upon this new circumstance: I debated whether the Basket had been placed there with a view to my necessity.

Hope answered my doubts in the affirmative.

Yet who could guess me to be in need of such assistance?
If my existence was known, why was I detained in this gloomy Vault?
If I was kept a Prisoner, what meant the ceremony of committing me to the Tomb?
Or if I was doomed to perish with hunger, to whose pity was I indebted for provisions placed within my reach?
A Friend would not have kept my dreadful punishment a secret; Neither did it seem probable that an Enemy would have taken pains to supply me with the means of existence.