If you comply, the timber is not grown, nor the hemp sown, that shall do him any harm."' 'There is a gleam of hope in this!' cried the prisoner.
'A gleam!' returned his friend, 'a noon-blaze; a full and glorious daylight.

Hush! I hear the tread of distant feet.

Rely on me.' 'When shall I hear more ?' 'As soon as I do.

I should hope, to-morrow.

They are coming to say that our time for talk is over.