Yet one minute, and I felt that the struggle would be
over. Plainly I perceived the loosening of the bandage. I knew that in
more than one place it must be already severed. With a more than human
resolution I lay still.
Nor had I erred in my calculations --nor had I endured in vain. I at
length 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
had divided the serge of the robe. It had cut through the linen
beneath. Twice again it swung, and a sharp sense of pain shot
through every nerve. But the moment of escape had arrived. At a wave
of my hand my deliverers hurried tumultuously away. With a steady
movement --cautious, sidelong, shrinking, and slow --I slid from the
embrace of the bandage and beyond the reach of the scimitar. For the
moment, at least, I was free.
Free! --and in the grasp of the Inquisition! I had scarcely
stepped from my wooden bed of horror upon the stone floor of the
prison, when the motion of the hellish machine ceased and I beheld
it drawn up, by some invisible force, through the ceiling. This was
a lesson which I took desperately to heart. My every motion was
undoubtedly watched.
Pages:
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27