nd shaking me by the shoulders. I looked up, and
asked him what was the matter.

"Only that I have come to tell you that you are to be put to death
to-morrow--which is a very unpleasant announcement," he answered.
"However, the commandant, being a religious man, will send a padre to
you, that you may confess to him, and prepare yourself for your
inevitable fate."

"Am I to be shot?" I asked, in a tone as full of alarm as I could
assume.

"No," he answered. "A new machine has just arrived from Spain, called a
garotte. From what I hear, it is a very clever invention. You will
only have to sit down in a chair which has a hollow in the back, and a
piece of wood which is also hollowed out comes in front; then, by
turning a large screw, the two are pressed together till the windpipe is
stopped up. In consequence, you will cease to breathe; but do not be
alarmed, you will find it very easy, if not agreeable. You will
afterwards be cut up, and the portions of your body will be exposed in
various parts of the town, to show our brave soldiers how traitors are
treated; but that will be a matter of indifference to you, I suppose. I
only mention it that you may give a full description to your friends of
what is to happen, to whom I would advise you to write during the day.
You will be furnished with paper and ink for the purpose. In the
meantime, the padre will visit you, and you will be wise to make a clean
breast to him."

The man spoke with a sardonic grin on his countenance, which would have
been very trying had I not fully expected to disappoint him. Leaving me
an ample supply of provisions, he went away, chuckling at my fancied
alarm.

As soon as he closed the door, I got up and made a capital breakfast,
and then prepared to receive the padre whenever he should come. My
chief fear was that the doctor might not be allowed again to visit me,
and that I should lose the opportunity of fixing a time with Captain
Longswill for making my escape. I did not wish to offend the padre; at
the same time, I determined not to make a confession of any sort to him.
He might prove a kind-hearted man; and if so, I would spend the time of
his visit in trying to get him to intercede for me.

I had just finished my meal, when a friar with a cowl over his head
entered the cell.

"I can give you half an hour, senor padre. That will be long enough to
shrive the young Englishman," observed the jailer, as he closed the
door.

"Y