minutes was sound asleep. I waked to find Gabord in the dungeon,
setting out food upon a board supported by two stools.

"'Tis custom to feed your dickey-bird ere you fetch him to the
pot." he said, and drew the cork from a bottle of wine.

He watched me as I ate and talked, but he spoke little. When I
had finished, he fetched a packet of tobacco from his pocket. I
offered him money, but he refused it, and I did not press him, for
he said the food and wine were not of his buying. Presently he
left, and came back with pens, ink, paper, and candles, which be
laid out on my couch without words.

After a little he came again, and laid a book on the improvised
table before me. It was an English Bible. Opening it, I found
inscribed on the fly-leaf, Charles Wainfleet, Chaplain to the
British Army. Gabord explained that this chaplain had been in
the citadel for some weeks; that he had often inquired about me;
that he had been brought from the Ohio; and had known of me, having
tended the lieutenant of my Virginian infantry in his last hours.
Gabord thought I should now begin to make my peace with Heaven,
and so had asked for the chaplain's Bible, which was freely given.
I bade him thank the chaplain for me, and opening the book, I found
a leaf turned down at the words,

"In the shadow of thy wings will I make my refuge, until these
calamities be overpast."

When I was left alone, I sat down to write diligently that history
of myself which I had composed and fixed in my memory during the