Nothing of interest to narrate. My imprisonment up to this time, since I have made Hunter's acquaintance, has been alleviated by the growing intimacy and friendship between us. Not that I could not find plenty of company in our mess, for a common tie of sympathy binded us closely, but there they are all old men, and not apt to enter into a great many measures I desired. Hunter, on the other hand, was nearly my own age, and perfectly congenial; indeed, I never met a man I esteemed more highly. Last night we got hold of some excellent wine, together with some choice eatables, and we sat up nearly the whole night enjoying ourselves royally. Since Flaherty escaped, I have been staying pretty much with Hunter all the time, even at night. While we were sitting this morning, laughing at the fears of the old men of our party, in consequence of our hallowing at the guards and passers-by, the commandant of the prison came up and informed Hunter that he was released. I was rejoiced at his good fortune, but lamented my own loss, for loss indeed his departure was to me. After he left, I was overcome by the "blues" and went into his room and, fastening the door, spent the rest of the day in gloomy solitude. Yesterday (Sunday) Mr Wood informed us that a "d-d abolitionist named Spear" would preach in the prison in the afternoon. Our party went down to hear him. He read one of the parables as the foundation of his remarks, but did not refer in his discourse once to his subject. It consisted mainly of a parallel drawn between himself, and John Howard, and Jesus Christ, in which the two latter suffered according to his own account of himself.