nk.
I threw my straining vision below. The glare from the enkindled roof
illumined its inmost recesses. Yet, for a wild moment, did my spirit
refuse to comprehend the meaning of what I saw. At length it forced--it
wrestled its way into my soul--it burned itself in upon my shuddering
reason.--Oh! for a voice to speak!--oh! horror!--oh! any horror but
this! With a shriek, I rushed from the margin, and buried my face in my
hands--weeping bitterly.

The heat rapidly increased, and once again I looked up, shuddering as
with a fit of the ague. There had been a second change in the cell--and
now the change was obviously in the form. As before, it was in vain that
I, at first, endeavoured to appreciate or understand what was taking
place. But not long was I left in doubt. The Inquisitorial vengeance had
been hurried by my two-fold escape, and there was to be no more dallying
with the King of Terrors. The room had been square. I saw that two of
its iron angles were now acute--two, consequently, obtuse. The fearful
difference quickly increased with a low rumbling or moaning sound. In an
instant the apartment had shifted its form into that of a lozenge. But
the 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 eternal
peace. "Death," I said, "any death but that of the pit!" Fool! might I
have not known that into the pit it was the object of the burning iron
to urge me? Could I resist its glow? or, if even that, could I withstand
its pressure And now, flatter and flatter grew the lozenge, with a
rapidity that left me no time for contemplation. Its centre, and of
course, its greatest width, came just over the yawning gulf. I shrank
back--but the closing walls pressed me resistlessly onward. At length
for my seared and writhing body there was no longer an inch of foothold
on the firm floor of the prison. I struggled no more, but the agony of
my soul found vent in one loud, long, and final scream of despair. I
felt that I tottered upon the brink--I averted my eyes--

There was a discordant hum of human voices! There was a loud blast as of
many trumpets! There was a harsh grating as of a thousand thunders! The
fiery walls rushed back! An outstretched arm caught my own as I fell,
fainting, into the abyss. It was that of General Lasalle. The French
army had entered Toledo. The Inquisition was in the hands of its
enemies.

THE PREMATURE BURIAL

THE