"Oh, you need not fear anything of that sort after what you have told me," I assured him. "I would rather go to prison myself--even such a prison as I am in now--than that he should." "It is very good of you indeed to say so," he said gratefully. "But you need have no fear of this sort of prison. My father would exert his influence to have you sent to Pankhurst, where, chiefly by his efforts, everything is as it should be, and a real attempt is made to raise prisoners. Even in the first division, you would be permitted to do something useful, such as breaking stones, and you would not be expected to eat more than two meals a day, and those quite meagre ones." "Well, to tell you the truth," I said, "one of my hobbies is to study conditions of prison life in the various countries I visit. I am very glad to have had the opportunity of judging for myself in this way, and though I don't want to go to prison myself any longer, if it can be avoided, you would be conferring a real benefit upon me if you could get me sent to the most luxurious penal establishment you possess, supposing I am found guilty." "Do you really mean that?" he asked. "Yes, I really do. I know it must seem odd to you, but I am like that." He rose and shook hands with me. "I can't tell you how I admire your spirit," he said. I drank half a glass of port and rose to still greater heights of self-abnegation. I was anxious to show myself worthy of his praise. "As long as I remain in Upsidonia," I said, "I should like to live entirely amongst the very rich, and just as if I were rich myself. Could you manage that for me, do you think, in return for what I am going to do for your father?" He laughed. "If you really mean it," he said, "there won't be the slightest difficulty. And we are the right people to help you. They might not show themselves as they really are to a stranger, for they stick to one another wonderfully, and the more respectable among them hide their riches as much as possible. Some of the tragedies of wealth one comes across are heart-breaking. But I mustn't begin on that subject, or I should never end. If you can see your way to relieving a few of the rich in Culbut of a little of their load of misery, you will be doing a great work." "I shall quite hope to be able to do that," I said. "I might be able to take away a considerable sum of money." Again he shook hands with me, but his emotion did not permit of much speech. "You will have your reward," he said simply. "I quite hope so," I replied. "What, must you be going? Are you sure you won't take--I mean are you sure you are quite wrapped up enough? The night air is a little chilly." "Thank you, I shall walk home," he said. "Well, I am very much obliged to you for what you have promised to do. We shan't forget it, and anything we can do for you in return, as long as you remain in Upsidonia, you may be sure we _shall_ do." CHAPTER V