atures, surly and tallow-coloured; his limbs, swelled and
disproportioned; his huge paunch and unwieldy carcass, suggested the
idea, that, having once found his way into this central recess, he
had there fattened, like the weasel in the fable, and fed largely and
foully, until he had become incapable of retreating through any of the
narrow paths that terminated at his cell; and was thus compelled to
remain, like a toad under the cold stone, fattening amid the squalid
airs of the dungeons by which he was surrounded, which would have
proved pestiferous to any other than such a congenial inhabitant. Huge
iron-clasped books lay before this ominous specimen of pinguitude--the
records of the realm of misery, in which office he officiated as prime
minister; and had Peveril come thither as an unconcerned visitor,
his heart would have sunk within him at considering the mass of human
wretchedness which must needs be registered in these fatal volumes.
But his own distresses sat too heavy on his mind to permit any general
reflections of this nature.

The constable and this bulky official whispered together, after the
former had delivered to the latter the warrant of Julian's commitment.
The word _whispered_ is not quite accurate, for their communication was
carried on less by words than by looks and expressive signs; by which,
in all such situations, men learn to supply the use of language, and to
add mystery to what is in itself sufficiently terrible to the captive.
The only words which could be heard were those of the Warden, or, as
he was called then, the Captain of the Jail, "Another bird to the
cage----?"

"Who will whistle 'Pretty Pope of Rome,' with any starling in your
Knight's ward," answered the constable, with a facetious air, checked,
however, by the due respect to the supreme presence in which he stood.

The Grim Feature relaxed into something like a smile as he heard the
officer's observation; but instantly composing himself into the stern
solemnity which for an instant had been disturbed, he looked fiercely at
his new guest, and pronounced with an awful and emphatic, yet rather an
under-voice, the single and impressive word, "_Garnish!_"

Julian Peveril replied with assumed composure; for he had heard of the
customs of such places, and was resolved to comply with them, so as if
possible to obtain the favour of seeing his father, which he shrewdly
guessed must depend on his gratifying the avarice of the keeper. "I