The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 204: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

186 THE COURT OF LONDON imprisonment. He therefore now blamed himself bitterly for having rushed so precipitately on the enterprise with the name of Jocelyn Loftus. But now let us specially note the incidents of his first day’s incarceration. At about one o’clock a domestic in the prefect’s livery brought in a tray furnished with copious materials for a succulent repast, but it may be well under- stood that Jocelyn was in no particular humour to partake of it. The man, without being precisely stern-looking, was evidently of a cold and reserved disposition, a character well suited for such a place as the prefecture and such functions as those which he had to fulfil. Jocelyn did not question him; for, in the first place, he was tolerably well convinced that this menial could know nothing of the secrets regarding his captivity, and, secondly, even if he did, he was still more certain not to betray them. Before quitting the room, the domestic said, in a tone that was coldly polite, ‘‘ I am commanded, sir, to wait upon you with your meals three times a day, and on each occasion whatever orders you may wish to give shall be obeyed, con- sistently with the regulations of the place. Books and writing materials you can have —”’ ‘Yes, bring me books and writing materials,’’ exclaimed Jocelyn, to whom it was at least some consolation to per- ceive that he was not to be treated with any extraordinary degree of severity. The domestic retired, and shortly afterward reappeared, bringing with him a large parcel of books and an ample supply of writing materials; but as he deposited them in the recess of one of the deep-set windows, he remarked, ‘You are at liberty, sir, to write as much as you choose within these walls, but I must beg you to understand that not a scrap of paper can pass hence without being previously examined by his Excellency the prefect. Having thus spoken, the man again departed, carefully locking and bolting the door behind him; and when once more alone, Loftus began to examine the ‘books which had been brought him. They belonged to almost every branch of literature, — novels, poetry, travels, voyages, history, poli- tics, science, and art; but he started back i in sudden dismay from this perfect cyclopedia of amusement and instruction, for the thought flashed to his mind that here was indeed CONNIE DOOKS (E(0) m