I began to think that my industry had been misemployed.

Suppose I had met the person on his first entrance into his chamber?
Was the truth so utterly wild as not to have found credit?
Since the door was locked, and there was no other avenue, what other statement but the true one would account for my being found there?
This deportment had been worthy of an honest purpose.

My betrayer probably expected that this would be the issue of his jest.

My rustic simplicity, he might think, would suggest no more ambiguous or elaborate expedient.

He might likewise have predetermined to interfere if my safety had been really endangered.
On the morrow the two doors of the chamber and the window below would be found unclosed.