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Dagon.’ And now the cell door opened, when a savage figure entered, carrying a huge parcel of clanking fetters, with a collar of iron, which he put round the neck of Poor Pedrosa, telling him, with a truly diabolical grin, whilst he was rivetting it on, ‘that it was a proper cravat for the throat of a blasphemer.’—‘Jesus Maria!’ quoth Pedrosa, 'is all this fallen upon me for only cudgelling a restive mule?’ ‘Aye,’ cried the demon, ‘and this is only a taste of what is to come,’ at the same time, slipping his pincers from the screw he was forking to the head, he caught a piece of flesh in the forceps, and wrenched it out of his check, laughing at poor Nicolas, whilst he roared aloud with the pain, telling him, it was a just reward for the torture he had put him to a while ago, when he tugged at a tooth till he broke it in his jaw.’ ‘Ah, for the love of heaven,’ cried Pedrosa, ‘have more pity on me; for the sake of Saint Nicolas de Tolentino, my holy patron, be not so unmerciful to a poor barber-surgeon; and I will shave your worship’s beard for nothing as long as I have life.’ One of the messengers of the auditory now came in, and bade the fellow strike off the prisoner’s fetters, for that the holy fathers were in council, and demanded him for examination. ‘This is something extraordinary,’ quoth the tormentor, ‘I should not have expected it this twelvemonth to come.’ Pedrosa’s fetters were struck oft; some brandy was applied to staunch the bleeding of his cheek; his hands and face were washed, and a short jacket of course ticking thrown over him, and the messenger, with an assistant, taking him
