Upon recovering, I at once started to my feet,
trembling convulsively in every fibre. I thrust my arms wildly above
and around me in all directions. I felt nothing; yet dreaded to move a
step, lest I should be impeded by the walls of a tomb. Perspiration
burst from every pore, and stood in cold big beads upon my forehead.
The agony of suspense grew at length intolerable, and I cautiously
moved forward, with my arms extended, and my eyes straining from their
sockets, in the hope of catching some faint ray of light. I
proceeded for many paces; but still all was blackness and vacancy. I
breathed more freely. It seemed evident that mine was not, at least,
the most hideous of fates.
And now, as I still continued to step cautiously onward, there
came thronging upon my recollection a thousand vague rumors of the
horrors of Toledo. Of the dungeons there had been strange things
narrated --fables I had always deemed them --but yet strange, and
too ghastly to repeat, save in a whisper. Was I left to perish of
starvation in this subterranean world of darkness; or what fate,
perhaps even more fearful, awaited me? That the result would be death,
and a death of more than customary bitterness, I knew too well the
character of my judges to doubt.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25