o painful--I fell back, and
remained in a state of half-stupor. Gradually I recovered, and again
sat up. I perceived that I had been lying on a bed of straw, composed
of two or three trusses apparently. I felt with my extended arms on
each side of me, but touched nothing. I opened my eyes, which I had
closed again, and tried to pierce through the obscurity, but in vain--
all was dark as Erebus. I then rose on my feet, and extending my hands
before me, walked five or six steps on one side, till I was clear of the
straw, and came to a wall. I followed the wall about twenty feet, and
then touched wood; groping about, I found it was a door. I then made
the circuit of the walls, and discovered that the other side was built
with bins for wine, which were empty, and I then found myself again at
the straw upon which I had been laid. It was in a cellar no longer
used--but where? Again I lay down upon the straw, and, as it may be
imagined, my reflections were anything but pleasing. "Was I in the
power of McDermott or Melchior?" I felt convinced that I was; but my
head was too painful for long thought, and after half an hour's
reflection, I gave way to a sullen state of half-dreaming, half-stupor,
in which the forms of McDermott, Kathleen, Melchior, and Fleta, passed
in succession before me. How long I remained in this second species of
trance I cannot say, but I was roused by the light of a candle, which
flashed in my eyes. I started up, and beheld Melchior in his gipsy's
dress, just as when I had taken leave of him.

"It is to you, then, that I am indebted for this treatment?" replied I.

"No, not to me," replied Melchior. "I do not command here; but I knew
you when they brought you in insensible, and being employed in the
castle, I have taken upon myself the office of your gaoler, that I
might, if possible, serve you."

I felt, I knew, this to be false, but a moment's reflection told me that
it was better at present to temporise.

"Who then does the castle belong to, Melchior?"

"To Sir Henry de Clare."

"And what can be his object in treating me thus?"

"That I can tell you, because I am a party concerned. You remember the
little girl, Fleta, who left the gipsy camp with you--she is now
somewhere under your care?"

"Well, I grant it; but I was answerable only to you about her."

"Very true, but I was answerable to Sir Henry; and when I could only say
that she was well, he was not satisfied, for family