Undoubtedly the slaver had felt intense chagrin because of his former failure and his defeat in the duel of swords before his own men, but then one should not exult over a foe who was beaten for the time.

He felt a bitter and intense hatred of the slaver, and, his breakfast finished, he leaned back, closing his eyes.
"So you do not wish to talk, but would meditate," said the man.

"Perhaps you're right, but, at any rate, you'll have plenty of time for it." When he went out Robert heard the heavy lock of the tiny room shove into place again, and he wasted no further effort in a new attempt upon it.
Instead, he lay down on the bunk, closed his eyes and tried to reconcile himself, body and mind, to his present situation.

He knew that it was best to keep quiet, to restrain any mental flutterings or physical quivers.

Absolute calm, if he could command it, was good for the soul, placed as he was, and the mere act of lying still helped toward that.