hus put an end to his misery. Vainly he tried
to forget his sorrows in sleep; no sooner would he close his eye-lids,
than the band of skeletons would seem to rush towards him, and with
fleshless arms beckon him to join their awful company.

Slowly, slowly passed the hours away. Numbed with cold, and paralyzed
with the terrors of his situation, Sydney was at last sinking into a
state of insensibility, when he was aroused by the loud noise caused by
the opening of the dungeon door, and the gleam of a lantern flashed upon
him. He staggered to his feet, and saw that his visitors were the two
villains, Maggot and Bloodhound. One of them came down the steps and
deposited upon the floor a small basket and a lamp.

'Here,' said he--'is some _grub_ for you, and a light to scare away the
ghosts. Eat your fill--you will need it; for in an hour from this time,
our captain will visit you to commence his tortures, in which I and my
comrade will be obliged to help him.'

'Why will you aid that wretch in his cruelties?' asked Sydney--'I never
injured you; pray act like a man of heart and feeling, and release me
from this dreadful place.'

'_Release you!_' cried the man--'I dare not. True, I have no animosity
against you, young man; but our Captain has, and were I to let you go,
life would not be worth a minute's purchase. I'd not incur that man's
wrath for a million of money. No, no, make up your mind to the
worst--you can never go out of this dungeon.'

With this consoling assurance, the man and his comrade took their
departure. On examining the contents of the basket, our hero found an
ample supply of good, wholesome food, and a jug of water; and while
heartily partaking of these necessities, (of which he stood in great
need,) he could not help comparing his situation with that of an animal
being fattened for slaughter!

An hour elapsed; the dungeon was again opened, and the Dead Man entered,
followed by Maggot and Bloodhound. The two latter worthies carried
between them an apparatus of singular appearance and construction.

'Well, dog,' cried the Dead Man, 'how do you like your new kennel? Not
so comfortable, I'll swear, as your fine house on Broadway! Faith, a
fine prayer you made last night, after we left you; you called on God to
help you--ha, ha! Fool--_he_ cannot help you!--_I_ alone can do it.
Down, then, on your marrow bones and worship me!'

And saying this, he raised his right arm, and with it struck his victim
hea