Seven years the unhappy prince spent in the Austrian prison, without
once being summoned before a judge--seven years of solitude, of
darkness, and of want. But the son of Marie Antoinette had learned
in his youth to bear these things, and his prison-life in Milan was
not so cruel as that in the Temple under Simon. Here there were at
least sympathizing souls who pitied him; even the turnkeys of the
prison were courteous and kind when they entered the cell of the
"King of France;" and one day, beyond the wall of his apartment, was
heard a voice singing, in gentle, melodious tones, a romanza which
Louis had composed, and written on the wall when he occupied the
neighboring cell.
This voice, which sounded like a greeting from the world, was that
of Silvio Pellico. The celebrated author of "Le Mie Prigioni,"
relates in touching words this salutation of his neighbor:
"My bed was carried," he said, "into the new cell that was prepared
for me, and as soon as the inspectors had left me alone, my first
care was to examine the walls. There were to be seen there some
words, recollections of the past, written with chalk, with pencil,
or with a sharp tool. I found there also two pretty French lines,
which I am sorry I did not copy. I began to sing them to my melody
of 'The Poor Mugdalen,' when a voice near me responded with another
air.
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