Poor Ráby! The mouse might well look at him; perhaps it wondered who this haggard, unkempt man was, with the tangled growth of unshaven beard and lank hair drooping over the hollow eyes, framing a pale, lean face, disfigured by suffering. This was the beginning of their strange friendship. The mouse would sport round him the whole day, or gambol about on his shoulder, and at night, would, as he lay on his plank bed, watch him from the ceiling, with bright, friendly eyes. Did Ráby call to it, it would answer him with a little responsive squeak, and try to gnaw the links of the chain that bound the prisoner, with its tiny teeth. But did anyone enter, the mouse would hurry back into its hole. But alas, there came a time when he had to lose even this humble companion. One evening he missed him, and only found the poor little beast dead in a corner--someone, apparently, having placed rat-poison in its hole. What the prisoner's feelings were, words do not express; his whole heart welled over with bitterness at this fresh proof of the malice of his enemies. They were, indeed, evil hearts that could find their pleasure in thus tormenting their victim. CHAPTER XXXIII. When the points in Ráby's indictment had mounted up to eighty, he thought it time to make his protest to the presiding judge: "I am shattered in mind and body alike; I desire to withdraw the accusation I have made, seeing it in no wise profits the oppressed people in whose interests I lodged it, but rather tends to their further hurt." "That avails nothing," was the answer. "The accusation has been presented to the Emperor, and the complainant must justify it. Is the treasure to which the impeachment relates, found, a third of it falls to the informer; is the information thus lodged proved to be false, the informer forfeits his head forthwith. So out with your proofs!" "Proofs? How can I furnish them I should like to know, fettered as I am, from a dungeon?" cried Ráby in desperation. "Are not all my documents in the hands of my enemies? Have not the archives of Szent-Endre been destroyed, and my private papers abstracted, so that I am denied all means of procuring the proofs I need?" "How do you know that?" asked the judge, dumbfoundered. "I know it only too well. Nay, I know too, it happened at the instigation of the authorities." "This is the gravest evidence we have yet had of your guilt," cried the judge; "this shows you have held intercourse with the outside world, although forbidden by the law to do so." "It only proves I am right," retorted the prisoner. "Pray who are your accomplices who helped you in your correspondence?" demanded his accuser angrily. "No one and everyone body. The bare walls, the air itself, the iron door, my fetters, my guards--all are my accomplices if you like to call them so." "Well, we will just make your chains a little faster so you can't move about quite so easily, my friend, that's all."