The _Daily News_ itself put the matter very clearly. "Mr. Foote and Mr. Ramsey," it said, "were sent to prison by Mr. Justice North for publishing a blasphemous libel. Sir William Harcourt declines to release them on the ground that they have published an obscene libel. It is not usual to keep Englishmen in gaol on the ground that they committed an offence of which they have not been convicted, and against which they have had no opportunity of defending themselves." But Sir William Harcourt thought otherwise, and kept us in prison, acting at once as prosecutor, witness, jury and judge. Mr. Gladstone was appealed to, but he "regretted he could do nothing," presumably because we were only Englishmen and not Bulgarians. An answer to this piece of callous hypocrisy came from the London clubs. One resolution passed by the Combined Radical Clubs of Chelsea, representing thousands of working men, characterised our continued imprisonment as an indelible stigma on the Liberal Government. CHAPTER XVI. A LONG NIGHT. Feeling there was no prospect of release, and resigned to my fate, I settled down to endure it, with a resolution to avail myself of every possible mitigation. Colonel Milman included us among the special exercise men, and we enjoyed the luxury of two outings every day; our solitary confinement being thus reduced to twenty-two hours instead of twenty-three. By finessing I also managed to get an old feather pillow from the store-room, which proved a comfortable addition to the wooden bolster. The alteration in our food I have already mentioned. Sir William Harcourt did absolutely nothing for us, but the Secretary of the Prison Commissioners gave instructions that we were to be treated as kindly as possible, so that "nothing might happen" to us. One of the upper officers, whom I have seen since, told me we were a source of great anxiety to the authorities, and they were very glad to see our backs. Mr. Anderson called on me in my cell and asked what he could do for me. "Open the front door," I answered. With a pleasant smile he regretted his inability to do that. "Well then," I continued, "let me have something to read." "Yes," he said, "I can do that. There are many books in the prison library." "But not one," I retorted, "fit for an educated man to read. They are all selected by the chaplain." "Well," he answered, "I cannot give you what we haven't got." "But why not let me have my own books to read?" I asked. Mr. Anderson replied that such a thing was unheard of, but I persisted in my plea, which Colonel Milman generously supported. "Well," said Mr. Anderson, "I suppose we must. Your own books may be sent in, and the Governor can let you have them two at a time. But, you know, you mustn't have such writings as you are here for." "Oh," I replied, "you have the power to check that. They will all pass through the Governor's hands, and I will order in nothing but what Colonel Milman might read himself."