The cold in the hall was not as severe now as formerly, for the weather had become milder without, and that coal stove, before referred to, stood not far from Sylver's cell. This helped in a measure, but came short of the warmth needful to a sick man like him. Things passed thus, with more or less of his moaning when I was in, till Wednesday evening, on which, by reason of the prayer meeting, I did not visit the apartment. Thursday noon I heard no moaning, but when the men had retired for their work, I called to visit the sufferer and found his cell empty, he having been carried to the hospital. I went to my dinner, purposing to return and visit the hospital immediately after; but, being detained, at length saw a coffin carried to the prison, and, on inquiry, learned that Sylver was dead. He died a few minutes past twelve, when I was known to be at work in the hall, but nothing was said to me about the event. How my heart sank within me, though, of the events of that terrible Wednesday night, I then knew nothing. The facts subsequently came to light in their revolting features. They were gathered from the steward, overseers, guard and released prisoners, investigated with all care, and are, no doubt, correct, as follows: Sylver grew worse Wednesday evening, groaning often. The steward came, and, after giving him the usual attention, said, "Now, Sylver, there is no use in your making such a fuss as this. Dry up and go to sleep." Sylver replied, "I would, if I could; but my sufferings are so great I can't help it;" to which the steward responded, "Yes, you can, if you only think so. Dry up, if you don't want to go into the solitary," and left, with the groans falling on his ears as he passed from the apartment. At nine the night watch went to his task in the hall, and found the inmate almost incessantly groaning, with interludes of prayer,--"Lord have mercy on me; do help me; forgive my sins," and so on, also suffering intensely with the cold, locked in his cell that none could approach him in attempts at relief. The watchman's heart was stirred, for humanity's promptings were not dead in him. He looked about for something that might afford warmth to the agonized man, and found some bricks, which he warmed and passed through the grating to the sufferer, who for a time had strength to take and place them around him for relief.