A prison, he reflected, was a prison, though it had neither walls nor bars, however spacious it might be.

And as he realized it that morning so he was to realize it increasingly as time sped on.
Daily he came to think more of his clipped wings, of his exclusion from the world, and less of the fortuitous liberty he enjoyed.

Nor did the contrasting of his comparatively easy lot with that of his unfortunate fellow-convicts bring him the satisfaction a differently constituted mind might have derived from it.

Rather did the contemplation of their misery increase the bitterness that was gathering in his soul.
Of the forty-two who had been landed with him from the Jamaica Merchant, Colonel Bishop had purchased no less than twenty-five.

The remainder had gone to lesser planters, some of them to Speightstown, and others still farther north.