was seized with a fierce desire for freedom. But the futile struggle that I essayed was immediately frustrated by my guards, whose strength far exceeded mine. I was roughly thrown into the instrument of torture, from which the lid had been removed. Suddenly my head struck something unyielding and I lapsed into,unconsciousness.
From then on I knew but hazily what occurred. When I awoke, my sight encountered nought save Stygian darkness. For a space I lay quiet, summoning to my aid all my faculties. Try as I might I could not pierce the blackness. It now seemed to swirl and eddy before my eyes, and often I closed them for the relief of immovable darkness. Now suddenly I bethought myself of moving my arms. But the attempt resulted in a sharp pain at the juncture of arm and shoulder. This, thought I, could be caused by no other agency than the clamps that I had so often heard of from witnesses of an execution. At that preclusion to my efforts the remembrance of the proceedings of some time past came upon me like a huge wave of ocean and swept away all the remnants of thoughts that I had been collecting, leaving nothing but fear, stark terror, despair. I realized where I was and with the realization came the thought of unhindered death. I was in the terrible iron coffin of Lissa, from which no man had ever escaped! I began to breathe heavily, and I could feel cold beads of sweat on my brow. I raved, I shouted in rage, I swore terrible oaths, oaths of vengeance against Torquemada, the Grand Inquisitor. But my exertions were too much for me and I was forced to sink back in exhaustion.
Shortly after, a reaction set in and I lay quiet, contemplating my untimely end. I strained my ears for any sounds that might meet them. For a space I heard nought save my irregular breathing, then another sound impinged upon my ears. It was a soft padding sound, a very soft sound, scarcely audible. I listened attentively and attempted to find what occasioned it. It stopped at intervals; it resumed almost at once. Then no sound reached me for some little time, but suddenly I felt a sharp, stinging sensation in my right hand. I strove to draw it toward me, but the sharp pain in my shoulder was augmented with each movement of my arm. I groaned aloud. My arms had been drawn through apertures in the sides of the coffin; they had been chained to the stone floor for the rats to gnaw upon!
Again and again I shrieked, but the more often I did so, the more acutely did I realize the utter futility of my efforts. I should not be heard here, so far underground; even if I were heard, no one would liberate me. I sighed, and once more sank back to my rough bed exhausted. The rats were gone now, frightened, no doubt, by my wild screams of terror. But poignantly I realized that they must eventually return. I lowered my eyelids and began to mumble a silent prayer, but I was rudely interrupted.
A new sound, a sound fraught with more dangers and horrors than any I had heard heretofore, reached my ears. A light sound, barely coherent—yet it was there. A creaking sound, slow, in truth, and not continuous, but its portent flung me again into the wildest throes of terror. The sound of the slow, sure descent of the coffin lid! This was the climax of the ghastly tortures I was to undergo. I raised my head to find if I could touch the oncoming lid. But I could not, and the clawing pain in my shoulders as the steel damps sank into my flesh, caused me to sit back again as quickly as I could. The lid, then, was some distance away, and I had a few hours of grace.
The certainty of death threw open
