Then, again unclasping the fillet which had bound it round his brow,
the magic gem reappeared in his hand.
It was mid-day, and the usual fare of the convicts was brought to
him—scanty and coarse fare, with bad water. He humbly and thankfully
partook of the poor food, but poured out the contents of the cup on the
ground.
"The water of this land is bad," he said. "The people render it
palatable by mixing it with a fiery stimulant, which, alas! only
increases their thirst, so that they ever thirst again; but we do not
need this."
Then gently laying his finger on the gem, it expanded, like a lily-bell
in the sun, into a crystal vase, and in it bubbled up a miniature
fountain of pure, sparkling water.
"In us a well of water springing up," he murmured, as if to himself, as
he drank and was refreshed. And touching the vase again, it folded up,
like a convolvulus going to sleep when the sun sets.