I am still remembering the Prisoner, its difficult to forget them, so easy to keep them in mind as the President requested during the proceedings of Fall Out.
I am also bearing in mind the fact that the Prisoner is still somewhere out there, perhaps in the Bay of Biscay by this time, and it gets jolly rough in there.
He'll be cold, wet, and no doubt fed up with cold water, cold tinned baked beans, and corned beef, as a friend of one suggested to me earlier this week. More then that No.6 would have to "go over the side," unless that is what the galvanized bucket is for!
The Prisoner has another eight days, not including today, before he encounters the gun runners, having already been at sea for seventeen days. I don't know how he's doing it. In fictional terms I suppose its possible, but in reality, No.6 would have been dead of hypothermia days ago. If not washed overboard by an unfriendly wave. And while he was asleep for four hours, his raft would have drited off-course for miles and miles in those four hours, seeing as he had no drift-anchor, or automatic pilot to keep the raft on course.
But I mustn't get carried away, this is a fictional story we are dealing with. And so I shall keep bearing the Prisoner in mind. Keeping with him until his unceremonius unhappy return to the Village on March 19th.
Be seeing you
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