THE PIT AND THE PENDULUM
Impia tortorum longos hic turba furores Sanguinis innocui, non satiata, aluit. Sospite nunc patria, fracto nunc funeris antro, Mors ubi dira fuit vita salusque patent.
[_Quatrain composed for the gates of a market to be erected upon the site of the Jacobin Club House at Paris_.]
I WAS sick--sick unto death with that long agony; and when they atlength unbound me, and I was permitted to sit, I felt that my senseswere leaving me. The sentence--the dread sentence of death--was the lastof distinct accentuation which reached my ears. After that, the sound ofthe inquisitorial voices seemed merged in one dreamy indeterminatehum. It conveyed to my soul the idea of revolution--perhaps from itsassociation in fancy with the burr of a mill wheel. This only for abrief period; for presently I heard no more. Yet, for a while, I saw;but with how terrible an exaggeration! I saw the lips of the black-robedjudges. They appeared to me white--whiter than the sheet upon whichI trace these words--and thin even to grotesqueness; thin with theintensity of their expression of firmness--of immoveable resolution--ofstern contempt of human torture. I saw that the decrees of what to mewas Fate, were still issuing from those lips. I saw them writhe witha deadly locution. I saw them fashion the syllables of my name; and Ishuddered because no sound succeeded. I saw, too, for a few moments ofdelirious horror, the soft and nearly imperceptible waving of the sabledraperies which enwrapped the walls of the apartment. And then my visionfell upon the seven tall candles upon the table. At first they wore theaspect of charity, and seemed white and slender angels who would saveme; but then, all at once, there came a most deadly nausea over myspirit, and I felt every fibre in my frame thrill as if I had touchedthe wire of a galvanic battery, while the angel forms became meaninglessspectres, with heads of flame, and I saw that from them there would beno help. And then there stole into my fancy, like a rich musical note,the thought of what sweet rest there must be in the grave. The thoughtcame gently and stealthily, and it seemed long before it attained fullappreciation; but just as my spirit came at length properly to feel andentertain it, the figures of the judges vanished, as if magically, frombefore me; the tall candles sank into nothingness; their flames went oututterly; the blackness of darkness supervened; all sensations appearedswallowed up in a mad rushing descent as of the soul into Hades. Thensilence, and stillness, night were the universe.
I had swooned; but still will not say that all of consciousness waslost. What of it there remained I will not attempt to define, or evento describe; yet all was not lost. In the deepest slumber--no! Indelirium--no! In a swoon--no! In death--no! even in the grave all isnot lost. Else there is no immortality for man. Arousing from the mostprofound of slumbers, we break the gossamer web of some dream. Yet in asecond afterward, (so frail may that web have been) we remember notthat we have dreamed. In the return to life from the swoon there are twostages; first, that of the sense of mental or spiritual; secondly, thatof the sense of physical, existence. It seems probable that if, uponreaching the second stage, we could recall the impressions of thefirst, we should find these impressions eloquent in memories of the gulfbeyond. And that gulf is--what? How at least shall we distinguish itsshadows from those of the tomb? But if the impressions of what I havetermed the first stage, are not, at will, recalled, yet, after longinterval, do they not come unbidden, while we marvel whence they come?He who has never swooned, is not he who finds strange palaces and wildlyfamiliar faces in coals that glow; is not he who beholds floatingin mid-air the sad visions that the many may not view; is not he whoponders over the perfume of some novel flower--is not he whose braingrows bewildered with the meaning of some musical cadence which hasnever before arrested his attention.
Amid frequent and thoughtful endeavors to remember; amid earneststruggles to regather some token of the state of seeming nothingnessinto which my soul had lapsed, there have been moments when I havedreamed of success; there have been brief, very brief periods when Ihave conjured up remembrances which the lucid reason of a later epochassures me could have had reference only to that condition of seemingunconsciousness. These shadows of memory tell, indistinctly, of tallfigures that lifted and bore me in silence down--down--stilldown--till a hideous dizziness oppressed me at the mere idea of theinterminableness of the descent. They tell also of a vague horror atmy heart, on account of that heart's unnatural stillness. Then comes asense of sudden motionlessness throughout all things; as if those whobore me (a ghastly train!) had outrun, in their descent, the limits ofthe limitless, and paused from the wearisomeness of their toil. Afterthis I call to mind flatness and dampness; and then all is madness--themadness of a memory which busies itself among forbidden things.
Very suddenly there came back to my soul motion and sound--thetumultuous motion of the heart, and, in my ears, the sound of itsbeating. Then a pause in which all is blank. Then again sound, andmotion, and touch--a tingling sensation pervading my frame. Then themere consciousness of existence, without thought--a condition whichlasted long. Then, very suddenly, thought, and shuddering terror, andearnest endeavor to comprehend my true state. Then a strong desireto lapse into insensibility. Then a rushing revival of soul and asuccessful effort to move. And now a full memory of the trial, of thejudges, of the sable draperies, of the sentence, of the sickness, ofthe swoon. Then entire forgetfulness of all that followed; of all thata later day and much earnestness of endeavor have enabled me vaguely torecall.
So far, I had not opened my eyes. I felt that I lay upon my back,unbound. I reached out my hand, and it fell heavily upon something dampand hard. There I suffered it to remain for many minutes, while I stroveto imagine where and what I could be. I longed, yet dared not to employmy vision. I dreaded the first glance at objects around me. It was notthat I feared to look upon things horrible, but that I grew aghast lestthere should be nothing to see. At length, with a wild desperationat heart, I quickly unclosed my eyes. My worst thoughts, then, wereconfirmed. The blackness of eternal night encompassed me. I struggledfor breath. The intensity of the darkness seemed to oppress and stifleme. The atmosphere was intolerably close. I still lay quietly, andmade effort to exercise my reason. I brought to mind the inquisitorialproceedings, and attempted from that point to deduce my real condition.The sentence had passed; and it appeared to me that a very long intervalof time had since elapsed. Yet not for a moment did I suppose myselfactually dead. Such a supposition, notwithstanding what we read infiction, is altogether inconsistent with real existence;--but where andin what state was I? The condemned to death, I knew, perished usually atthe autos-da-fe, and one of these had been held on the very night of theday of my trial. Had I been remanded to my dungeon, to await the nextsacrifice, which would not take place for many months? This I at oncesaw could not be. Victims had been in immediate demand. Moreover, mydungeon, as well as all the condemned cells at Toledo, had stone floors,and light was not altogether excluded.
A fearful idea now suddenly drove the blood in torrents upon my heart,and for a brief period, I once more relapsed into insensibility. Uponrecovering, I at once started to my feet, trembling convulsivelyin every fibre. I thrust my arms wildly above and around me in alldirections. I felt nothing; yet dreaded to move a step, lest I should beimpeded by the walls of a tomb. Perspiration burst from every pore, andstood in cold big beads upon my forehead. The agony of suspense grewat length intolerable, and I cautiously moved forward, with my armsextended, and my eyes straining from their sockets, in the hope ofcatching some faint ray of light. I proceeded for many paces; but stillall was blackness and vacancy. I breathed more freely. It seemed evidentthat mine was not, at least, the most hideous of fates.
And now, as I still continued to step cautiously onward, there camethronging upon my recollection a thousand vague rumors of the horrors ofToledo. Of the dungeons there had been strange things narrated--fables Ihad always deemed them--but yet strange, and too ghastly to repeat, savein a whisper. Was I left to perish of starvation in this subterraneanworld of darkness; or what fate, perhaps even more fearful, awaitedme? That the result would be death, and a death of more than customarybitterness, I knew too well the character of my judges to doubt. Themode and the hour were all that occupied or distracted me.
My outstretched hands at length encountered some solid obstruction. Itwas a wall, seemingly of stone masonry--very smooth, slimy, and cold.I followed it up; stepping with all the careful distrust with whichcertain antique narratives had inspired me. This process, however,afforded me no means of ascertaining the dimensions of my dungeon; asI might make its circuit, and return to the point whence I set out,without being aware of the fact; so perfectly uniform seemed the wall.I therefore sought the knife which had been in my pocket, when ledinto the inquisitorial chamber; but it was gone; my clothes had beenexchanged for a wrapper of coarse serge. I had thought of forcing theblade in some minute crevice of the masonry, so as to identify my pointof departure. The difficulty, nevertheless, was but trivial; although,in the disorder of my fancy, it seemed at first insuperable. I tore apart of the hem from the robe and placed the fragment at full length,and at right angles to the wall. In groping my way around the prison, Icould not fail to encounter this rag upon completing the circuit. So, atleast I thought: but I had not counted upon the extent of the dungeon,or upon my own weakness. The ground was moist and slippery. I staggeredonward for some time, when I stumbled and fell. My excessive fatigueinduced me to remain prostrate; and sleep soon overtook me as I lay.
Upon awaking, and stretching forth an arm, I found beside me a loafand a pitcher with water. I was too much exhausted to reflect uponthis circumstance, but ate and drank with avidity. Shortly afterward, Iresumed my tour around the prison, and with much toil came at last uponthe fragment of the serge. Up to the period when I fell I had countedfifty-two paces, and upon resuming my walk, I had counted forty-eightmore;--when I arrived at the rag. There were in all, then, a hundredpaces; and, admitting two paces to the yard, I presumed the dungeon tobe fifty yards in circuit. I had met, however, with many angles in thewall, and thus I could form no guess at the shape of the vault; forvault I could not help supposing it to be.
I had little object--certainly no hope--in these researches; but a vaguecuriosity prompted me to continue them. Quitting the wall, I resolvedto cross the area of the enclosure. At first I proceeded with extremecaution, for the floor, although seemingly of solid material, wastreacherous with slime. At length, however, I took courage, and did nothesitate to step firmly; endeavoring to cross in as direct a line aspossible. I had advanced some ten or twelve paces in this manner, whenthe remnant of the torn hem of my robe became entangled between my legs.I stepped on it, and fell violently on my face.
In the confusion attending my fall, I did not immediately apprehend asomewhat startling circumstance, which yet, in a few seconds afterward,and while I still lay prostrate, arrested my attention. It was this--mychin rested upon the floor of the prison, but my lips and the upperportion of my head, although seemingly at a less elevation than thechin, touched nothing. At the same time my forehead seemed bathed ina clammy vapor, and the peculiar smell of decayed fungus arose to mynostrils. I put forward my arm, and shuddered to find that I had fallenat the very brink of a circular pit, whose extent, of course, I hadno means of ascertaining at the moment. Groping about the masonry justbelow the margin, I succeeded in dislodging a small fragment, and let itfall into the abyss. For many seconds I hearkened to its reverberationsas it dashed against the sides of the chasm in its descent; at lengththere was a sullen plunge into water, succeeded by loud echoes. At thesame moment there came a sound resembling the quick opening, and asrapid closing of a door overhead, while a faint gleam of light flashedsuddenly through the gloom, and as suddenly faded away.
I saw clearly the doom which had been prepared for me, and congratulatedmyself upon the timely accident by which I had escaped. Another stepbefore my fall, and the world had seen me no more. And the death justavoided, was of that very character which I had regarded as fabulous andfrivolous in the tales respecting the Inquisition. To the victims of itstyranny, there was the choice of death with its direst physical agonies,or death with its most hideous moral horrors. I had been reserved forthe latter. By long suffering my nerves had been unstrung, until Itrembled at the sound of my own voice, and had become in every respect afitting subject for the species of torture which awaited me.
Shaking in every limb, I groped my way back to the wall; resolvingthere to perish rather than risk the terrors of the wells, of which myimagination now pictured many in various positions about the dungeon.In other conditions of mind I might have had courage to end my misery atonce by a plunge into one of these abysses; but now I was the veriest ofcowards. Neither could I forget what I had read of these pits--that thesudden extinction of life formed no part of their most horrible plan.
Agitation of spirit kept me awake for many long hours; but at length Iagain slumbered. Upon arousing, I found by my side, as before, a loafand a pitcher of water. A burning thirst consumed me, and I emptiedthe vessel at a draught. It must have been drugged; for scarcely had Idrunk, before I became irresistibly drowsy. A deep sleep fell upon me--asleep like that of death. How long it lasted of course, I know not;but when, once again, I unclosed my eyes, the objects around me werevisible. By a wild sulphurous lustre, the origin of which I could notat first determine, I was enabled to see the extent and aspect of theprison.
In its size I had been greatly mistaken. The whole circuit of its wallsdid not exceed twenty-five yards. For some minutes this fact occasionedme a world of vain trouble; vain indeed! for what could be of lessimportance, under the terrible circumstances which environed me, thenthe mere dimensions of my dungeon? But my soul took a wild interest intrifles, and I busied myself in endeavors to account for the error I hadcommitted in my measurement. The truth at length flashed upon me. In myfirst attempt at exploration I had counted fifty-two paces, up to theperiod when I fell; I must then have been within a pace or two of thefragment of serge; in fact, I had nearly performed the circuit of thevault. I then slept, and upon awaking, I must have returned upon mysteps--thus supposing the circuit nearly double what it actually was. Myconfusion of mind prevented me from observing that I began my tour withthe wall to the left, and ended it with the wall to the right.
I had been deceived, too, in respect to the shape of the enclosure.In feeling my way I had found many angles, and thus deduced an idea ofgreat irregularity; so potent is the effect of total darkness upon onearousing from lethargy or sleep! The angles were simply those of a fewslight depressions, or niches, at odd intervals. The general shape ofthe prison was square. What I had taken for masonry seemed now to beiron, or some other metal, in huge plates, whose sutures or jointsoccasioned the depression. The entire surface of this metallic enclosurewas rudely daubed in all the hideous and repulsive devices to which thecharnel superstition of the monks has given rise. The figures of fiendsin aspects of menace, with skeleton forms, and other more reallyfearful images, overspread and disfigured the walls. I observed that theoutlines of these monstrosities were sufficiently distinct, but thatthe colors seemed faded and blurred, as if from the effects of a dampatmosphere. I now noticed the floor, too, which was of stone. In thecentre yawned the circular pit from whose jaws I had escaped; but it wasthe only one in the dungeon.
All this I saw indistinctly and by much effort: for my personalcondition had been greatly changed during slumber. I now lay upon myback, and at full length, on a species of low framework of wood. To thisI was securely bound by a long strap resembling a surcingle. It passedin many convolutions about my limbs and body, leaving at liberty onlymy head, and my left arm to such extent that I could, by dint of muchexertion, supply myself with food from an earthen dish which lay bymy side on the floor. I saw, to my horror, that the pitcher had beenremoved. I say to my horror; for I was consumed with intolerable thirst.This thirst it appeared to be the design of my persecutors to stimulate:for the food in the dish was meat pungently seasoned.
Looking upward, I surveyed the ceiling of my prison. It was some thirtyor forty feet overhead, and constructed much as the side walls. In oneof its panels a very singular figure riveted my whole attention. It wasthe painted figure of Time as he is commonly represented, save that, inlieu of a scythe, he held what, at a casual glance, I supposed to bethe pictured image of a huge pendulum such as we see on antique clocks.There was something, however, in the appearance of this machine whichcaused me to regard it more attentively. While I gazed directly upwardat it (for its position was immediately over my own) I fancied that Isaw it in motion. In an instant afterward the fancy was confirmed. Itssweep was brief, and of course slow. I watched it for some minutes,somewhat in fear, but more in wonder. Wearied at length with observingits dull movement, I turned my eyes upon the other objects in the cell.
A slight noise attracted my notice, and, looking to the floor, I sawseveral enormous rats traversing it. They had issued from the well,which lay just within view to my right. Even then, while I gazed, theycame up in troops, hurriedly, with ravenous eyes, allured by the scentof the meat. From this it required much effort and attention to scarethem away.
It might have been half an hour, perhaps even an hour, (for I could takebut imperfect note of time) before I again cast my eyes upward. WhatI then saw confounded and amazed me. The sweep of the pendulum hadincreased in extent by nearly a yard. As a natural consequence, itsvelocity was also much greater. But what mainly disturbed me was theidea that had perceptibly descended. I now observed--with what horror itis needless to say--that its nether extremity was formed of a crescentof glittering steel, about a foot in length from horn to horn; the hornsupward, and the under edge evidently as keen as that of a razor. Likea razor also, it seemed massy and heavy, tapering from the edge intoa solid and broad structure above. It was appended to a weighty rod ofbrass, and the whole hissed as it swung through the air.
I could no longer doubt the doom prepared for me by monkish ingenuity intorture. My cognizance of the pit had become known to the inquisitorialagents--the pit whose horrors had been destined for so bold a recusantas myself--the pit, typical of hell, and regarded by rumor as the UltimaThule of all their punishments. The plunge into this pit I had avoidedby the merest of accidents, I knew that surprise, or entrapment intotorment, formed an important portion of all the grotesquerie of thesedungeon deaths. Having failed to fall, it was no part of the demonplan to hurl me into the abyss; and thus (there being no alternative) adifferent and a milder destruction awaited me. Milder! I half smiled inmy agony as I thought of such application of such a term.
What boots it to tell of the long, long hours of horror more thanmortal, during which I counted the rushing vibrations of the steel! Inchby inch--line by line--with a descent only appreciable at intervals thatseemed ages--down and still down it came! Days passed--it might havebeen that many days passed--ere it swept so closely over me as to fan mewith its acrid breath. The odor of the sharp steel forced itself into mynostrils. I prayed--I wearied heaven with my prayer for its more speedydescent. I grew frantically mad, and struggled to force myself upwardagainst the sweep of the fearful scimitar. And then I fell suddenlycalm, and lay smiling at the glittering death, as a child at some rarebauble.
There was another interval of utter insensibility; it was brief; for,upon again lapsing into life there had been no perceptible descent inthe pendulum. But it might have been long; for I knew there were demonswho took note of my swoon, and who could have arrested the vibration atpleasure. Upon my recovery, too, I felt very--oh, inexpressibly sickand weak, as if through long inanition. Even amid the agonies of thatperiod, the human nature craved food. With painful effort I outstretchedmy left arm as far as my bonds permitted, and took possession of thesmall remnant which had been spared me by the rats. As I put a portionof it within my lips, there rushed to my mind a half formed thought ofjoy--of hope. Yet what business had I with hope? It was, as I say, ahalf formed thought--man has many such which are never completed. I feltthat it was of joy--of hope; but felt also that it had perished in itsformation. In vain I struggled to perfect--to regain it. Long sufferinghad nearly annihilated all my ordinary powers of mind. I was animbecile--an idiot.
The vibration of the pendulum was at right angles to my length. I sawthat the crescent was designed to cross the region of the heart.It would fray the serge of my robe--it would return and repeat itsoperations--again--and again. Notwithstanding terrifically wide sweep(some thirty feet or more) and the hissing vigor of its descent,sufficient to sunder these very walls of iron, still the fraying of myrobe would be all that, for several minutes, it would accomplish. Andat this thought I paused. I dared not go farther than this reflection. Idwelt upon it with a pertinacity of attention--as if, in so dwelling,I could arrest here the descent of the steel. I forced myself toponder upon the sound of the crescent as it should pass across thegarment--upon the peculiar thrilling sensation which the friction ofcloth produces on the nerves. I pondered upon all this frivolity untilmy teeth were on edge.
Down--steadily down it crept. I took a frenzied pleasure in contrastingits downward with its lateral velocity. To the right--to the left--farand wide--with the shriek of a damned spirit; to my heart with thestealthy pace of the tiger! I alternately laughed and howled as the oneor the other idea grew predominant.
Down--certainly, relentlessly down! It vibrated within three inches ofmy bosom! I struggled violently, furiously, to free my left arm. Thiswas free only from the elbow to the hand. I could reach the latter, fromthe platter beside me, to my mouth, with great effort, but no farther.Could I have broken the fastenings above the elbow, I would have seizedand attempted to arrest the pendulum. I might as well have attempted toarrest an avalanche!
Down--still unceasingly--still inevitably down! I gasped and struggledat each vibration. I shrunk convulsively at its every sweep. My eyesfollowed its outward or upward whirls with the eagerness of the mostunmeaning despair; they closed themselves spasmodically at the descent,although death would have been a relief, oh! how unspeakable! Still Iquivered in every nerve to think how slight a sinking of the machinerywould precipitate that keen, glistening axe upon my bosom. It was hopethat prompted the nerve to quiver--the frame to shrink. It was hope--thehope that triumphs on the rack--that whispers to the death-condemnedeven in the dungeons of the Inquisition.
I saw that some ten or twelve vibrations would bring the steel in actualcontact with my robe, and with this observation there suddenly came overmy spirit all the keen, collected calmness of despair. For the firsttime during many hours--or perhaps days--I thought. It now occurred tome that the bandage, or surcingle, which enveloped me, was unique. Iwas tied by no separate cord. The first stroke of the razorlike crescentathwart any portion of the band, would so detach it that it might beunwound from my person by means of my left hand. But how fearful, inthat case, the proximity of the steel! The result of the slighteststruggle how deadly! Was it likely, moreover, that the minions of thetorturer had not foreseen and provided for this possibility! Was itprobable that the bandage crossed my bosom in the track of the pendulum?Dreading to find my faint, and, as it seemed, my last hope frustrated,I so far elevated my head as to obtain a distinct view of my breast. Thesurcingle enveloped my limbs and body close in all directions--save inthe path of the destroying crescent.
Scarcely had I dropped my head back into its original position, whenthere flashed upon my mind what I cannot better describe than as theunformed half of that idea of deliverance to which I have previouslyalluded, and of which a moiety only floated indeterminately through mybrain when I raised food to my burning lips. The whole thought was nowpresent--feeble, scarcely sane, scarcely definite,--but still entire.I proceeded at once, with the nervous energy of despair, to attempt itsexecution.
For many hours the immediate vicinity of the low framework upon whichI lay, had been literally swarming with rats. They were wild, bold,ravenous; their red eyes glaring upon me as if they waited but formotionlessness on my part to make me their prey. ”To what food,” Ithought, ”have they been accustomed in the well?”
They had devoured, in spite of all my efforts to prevent them, all but asmall remnant of the contents of the dish. I had fallen into an habitualsee-saw, or wave of the hand about the platter: and, at length, theunconscious uniformity of the movement deprived it of effect. In theirvoracity the vermin frequently fastened their sharp fangs in my fingers.With the particles of the oily and spicy viand which now remained, Ithoroughly rubbed the bandage wherever I could reach it; then, raisingmy hand from the floor, I lay breathlessly still.
At first the ravenous animals were startled and terrified at thechange--at the cessation of movement. They shrank alarmedly back; manysought the well. But this was only for a moment. I had not counted invain upon their voracity. Observing that I remained without motion,one or two of the boldest leaped upon the frame-work, and smelt at thesurcingle. This seemed the signal for a general rush. Forth from thewell they hurried in fresh troops. They clung to the wood--they overranit, and leaped in hundreds upon my person. The measured movement of thependulum disturbed them not at all. Avoiding its strokes they busiedthemselves with the anointed bandage. They pressed--they swarmed upon mein ever accumulating heaps. They writhed upon my throat; their cold lipssought my own; I was half stifled by their thronging pressure; disgust,for which the world has no name, swelled my bosom, and chilled, with aheavy clamminess, my heart. Yet one minute, and I felt that the strugglewould be over. Plainly I perceived the loosening of the bandage. I knewthat in more than one place it must be already severed. With a more thanhuman resolution I lay still.
Nor had I erred in my calculations--nor had I endured in vain. I atlength felt that I was free. The surcingle hung in ribands from my body.But the stroke of the pendulum already pressed upon my bosom. It haddivided the serge of the robe. It had cut through the linen beneath.Twice again it swung, and a sharp sense of pain shot through everynerve. But the moment of escape had arrived. At a wave of my hand mydeliverers hurried tumultuously away. With a steady movement--cautious,sidelong, shrinking, and slow--I slid from the embrace of the bandageand beyond the reach of the scimitar. For the moment, at least, I wasfree.
Free!--and in the grasp of the Inquisition! I had scarcely stepped frommy wooden bed of horror upon the stone floor of the prison, when themotion of the hellish machine ceased and I beheld it drawn up, by someinvisible force, through the ceiling. This was a lesson which I tookdesperately to heart. My every motion was undoubtedly watched. Free!--Ihad but escaped death in one form of agony, to be delivered unto worsethan death in some other. With that thought I rolled my evesnervously around on the barriers of iron that hemmed me in. Somethingunusual--some change which, at first, I could not appreciatedistinctly--it was obvious, had taken place in the apartment. For manyminutes of a dreamy and trembling abstraction, I busied myself in vain,unconnected conjecture. During this period, I became aware, for thefirst time, of the origin of the sulphurous light which illuminedthe cell. It proceeded from a fissure, about half an inch in width,extending entirely around the prison at the base of the walls, whichthus appeared, and were, completely separated from the floor. Iendeavored, but of course in vain, to look through the aperture.
As I arose from the attempt, the mystery of the alteration in thechamber broke at once upon my understanding. I have observed that,although the outlines of the figures upon the walls were sufficientlydistinct, yet the colors seemed blurred and indefinite. These colors hadnow assumed, and were momentarily assuming, a startling and most intensebrilliancy, that gave to the spectral and fiendish portraitures anaspect that might have thrilled even firmer nerves than my own. Demoneyes, of a wild and ghastly vivacity, glared upon me in a thousanddirections, where none had been visible before, and gleamed with thelurid lustre of a fire that I could not force my imagination to regardas unreal.
Unreal!--Even while I breathed there came to my nostrils the breath ofthe vapour of heated iron! A suffocating odour pervaded the prison! Adeeper glow settled each moment in the eyes that glared at my agonies!A richer tint of crimson diffused itself over the pictured horrors ofblood. I panted! I gasped for breath! There could be no doubt of thedesign of my tormentors--oh! most unrelenting! oh! most demoniac ofmen! I shrank from the glowing metal to the centre of the cell. Amid thethought of the fiery destruction that impended, the idea of the coolnessof the well came over my soul like balm. I rushed to its deadly brink.I threw my straining vision below. The glare from the enkindled roofillumined its inmost recesses. Yet, for a wild moment, did my spiritrefuse to comprehend the meaning of what I saw. At length it forced--itwrestled its way into my soul--it burned itself in upon my shudderingreason.--Oh! for a voice to speak!--oh! horror!--oh! any horror butthis! With a shriek, I rushed from the margin, and buried my face in myhands--weeping bitterly.
The heat rapidly increased, and once again I looked up, shuddering aswith a fit of the ague. There had been a second change in the cell--andnow the change was obviously in the form. As before, it was in vain thatI, at first, endeavoured to appreciate or understand what was takingplace. But not long was I left in doubt. The Inquisitorial vengeance hadbeen hurried by my two-fold escape, and there was to be no more dallyingwith the King of Terrors. The room had been square. I saw that two ofits iron angles were now acute--two, consequently, obtuse. The fearfuldifference quickly increased with a low rumbling or moaning sound. In aninstant the apartment had shifted its form into that of a lozenge. Butthe alteration stopped not here-I neither hoped nor desired it to stop.I could have clasped the red walls to my bosom as a garment of eternalpeace. ”Death,” I said, ”any death but that of the pit!” Fool! might Ihave not known that into the pit it was the object of the burning ironto urge me? Could I resist its glow? or, if even that, could I withstandits pressure? And now, flatter and flatter grew the lozenge, with arapidity that left me no time for contemplation. Its centre, and ofcourse, its greatest width, came just over the yawning gulf. I shrankback--but the closing walls pressed me resistlessly onward. At lengthfor my seared and writhing body there was no longer an inch of footholdon the firm floor of the prison. I struggled no more, but the agony ofmy soul found vent in one loud, long, and final scream of despair. Ifelt that I tottered upon the brink--I averted my eyes--
There was a discordant hum of human voices! There was a loud blast as ofmany trumpets! There was a harsh grating as of a thousand thunders! Thefiery walls rushed back! An outstretched arm caught my own as I fell,fainting, into the abyss. It was that of General Lasalle. The Frencharmy had entered Toledo. The Inquisition was in the hands of itsenemies.