Captain Gennari, who had the custody of those detained in the fort, came after a few days to tell me that I was under the tribunal of the Inquisition;--that the Commissary of the Holy Office, Father Cipolletti, had sent for him, to tell him I was to be watched with the utmost vigilance, and treated with the greatest rigour; without seeing any one, or communicating with a single individual, either verbally or in writing: in short, without light in the evening, or anything whatever beyond what was absolutely necessary to prolong my existence. This official communication was sufficient to prevent my flattering myself that I should meet with gentle treatment, or even with common humanity, unless I obtained some indulgence from the good nature of the gaoler. Captain Gennari, when he spoke to any one of his mode of acquitting himself in his office, used to say--"I do my duty as a soldier, and if my own father were imprisoned here, from whatever cause it might be, I should not treat him any better than the rest." Nevertheless, this impartial man knew how to relax his severity towards those who could afford to be generous. My imprisonment continued with unabated rigour, and all the consolation I found was in the comfort of the Holy Spirit, and the kindness of the good gaoler. He redoubled his visits, and often came twice during the day to condole with me. "Tell me," said he, one day, "what I can do for you, to render your confinement less irksome." "You can do me one favour, which would be the greatest of all under this heavy tribulation. You know my residence, where my wife now is; go, and inquire for a book for me, the book that I constantly read, and the not having it with me now is my greatest trouble--that is, my Bible. In this way you may render me a double service. Tell that dear creature, also, that I am in good health and perfect tranquillity of mind." "Yes," said he, "I can serve you so far, and I promise you I will." On the morrow, he came back in high glee. "Your wife and all the rest salute you, and she sends you the book." "God be thanked!" My good gaoler offered to take care of my Bible for me, and asked me to make him acquainted with its contents. No one can imagine how I enjoyed the first time I read it to him; and he continually contrived opportunities for availing himself of my instructions. I spoke to him one day of the gaoler at Philippi, and how he was called by God, and taught by the holy apostles. Another time I read to him the parable of the Prodigal Son which touched him so much, that he would read it again himself. "Oh, what a noble book is this Bible!" he exclaimed; "but do the priests believe that it contains the word of God?" "They say they believe it," I replied, "but their actions contradict their assertion; in fact, they neither read it themselves nor let others read it."