The prisoners suffered greatly from their isolation and the deprivation of their comrades’ company, but Silvio Pellico and a near neighbour discovered a means of communicating with each other and persisted in it despite all orders to the contrary. They began by singing Italian songs from cell to cell and refused to be silenced by the loud outcries of the sentries, of whom several were at hand. One in particular patrolled the corridor, listening at each door so as to locate the sound. Pellico had no sooner discovered that his neighbour was Count Antonio Oroboni than the sentry hammered loudly on the door with the butt end of his musket. They persisted in singing, however, modulating their voices, until they gained the good-will of the sentry, or spoke so low as to be little interfered with. This conversation continued for a long time without interruption until one day it was overheard by the superintendent, who severely reprimanded Schiller. The old gaoler was much incensed and came to Pellico forbidding him to speak again at the window. “You must give me your solemn promise not to repeat this misconduct.” Pellico stoutly replied: “I shall promise nothing of the kind; silence and solitude are so absolutely unbearable that unless I am gagged I shall continue to speak to my comrade; if he does not answer, I shall address myself to my bars or the birds or the distant hills.” Kind-hearted old Schiller sternly repeated his injunctions, but failed to impress Pellico, and at last in despair Schiller threw away his keys, declaring he would sooner resign than be a party to so much cruelty. He yielded later, only imploring Pellico to speak always in the lowest key and to prevail upon Oroboni to do likewise. The greatest trial entailed by the _carcere duro_ was the lack of sufficient food. Pellico was constantly tormented with hunger. Some of his comrades suffered much more, for they had lived more freely than he and felt the spare diet more keenly. It was so well known throughout the prison that the political prisoners were half-starved, that many kindly souls wished to add to their allowance. The ordinary prisoner, who acted as orderly in bringing in the daily rations, secretly smuggled in a loaf of white bread which Pellico, although much touched, absolutely refused to accept. “We get so much more than you do,” the poor fellow pleaded, “I know you are always hungry.” But Pellico still refused. It was the same when Schiller, the grim gaoler, brought in parcels of food, bread and pieces of boiled meat, pressing them on his prisoner, assuring him that they cost him nothing. Pellico invariably refused everything except baskets of fruit, cherries and pears, which were irresistible, although he was sorry afterward for yielding to the weakness.