Nevertheless, those who knew him well, remarked something of a sinister and sombre expression which daily overspread his countenance more and more. In other respects he was gentler than ever. Many wished to share their ration with him, but he refused with a smile. Every evening, after the explanation which the director had given him, he committed a sort of folly, which, in so grave a man, was astonishing. At the moment when the director, in the progress of his habitual duty, passed by Sam Needy's working-frame, he would raise his eyes, gaze steadily upon him, and then address to him, in a tone full of distress and anger, combining at once menace and supplication, these two words only--"_remember Heartall_!" the director would either appear not to hear, or pass on, shrugging his shoulders. He was wrong. It became evident to all the lookers on of these strange scenes, that Sam Needy was inwardly determined on some step. All the prison awaited with anxiety the result of this strife between obstinacy and resolution. It has been proved, that once Sam said to the director, "Listen, sir, give me back my comrade; you will do well to do it, I assure you. Take notice that I tell you this." Another time, one Sunday, when he had remained in the airing-ground for many hours in the same attitude, seated on a stone, his elbows on his knees, and his forehead buried in his hands, one of his fellow-convicts approached him, and cried out, laughing, "What are you about here, Sam?" Sam raised his stern head slowly, and said, "_I am sitting in judgment!_" At last, on the evening of the 1st of November, 1833, at the moment when the director was making his round, Sam Needy crushed under his foot a watch-glass, which he had that morning found in the corridor. The director inquired whence that noise proceeded. "It is nothing," said Sam. "It is I, Mr. Flint--give me back my comrade." "Impossible!" said his master. "It must be done though," said Sam, in a low and steady voice, and looking the director full in the face, added, "reflect, this is the first of November, I give you till the 10th." A turnkey made the remark to Mr. Flint that Sam Needy threatened him, and that it was a case for solitary confinement. "No, nothing of the kind," said the director, with a disdainful smile, "we must be gentle with these sort of people." On the morrow, another convict approached Sam Needy, who walked by himself, melancholy, leaving the other prisoners to bask in a patch of sunshine at the further corner of the court. "What now, Sam--what are you thinking of? You seem sad." "_I am afraid_," said Sam, "_that some misfortune will happen soon to this gentle Mr. Flint_."