A
stomach-pump in prison! What more? They would be wanting fried fish and
asparagus next.
As a special concession to the Master's age and rank a separate upper
chamber, described as very airy, had been allotted to him in the local
gaol. The poor old man did not know how he got there; they had thrust
him into this strange place and locked the door on him. Long hours had
passed. He sat on an uncomfortable cane-bottomed chair, his hands
folded across his stomach. There was already a slight sense of
oppression in that region of his body. His head, too, felt heavy.
Without knowing how or why, he had fallen into a trap, after the manner
of some dumb beast of earth. When would they take him out again? And
when would that kind gentleman with the machine arrive?
Daylight entered through a small but thickly grated window. Looking out
from where he sat, he could detect neither men nor houses nor
trees--nothing but four rectangular patches of deep blue. The sea! Often
had he wondered about the sea, and why it was there.
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