and many voicesamong which, the soft and compassionate
voices of women were conspicuousgave him good wishes and
encouragement. He turned at the grated door, to render the
thanks of his heart; it closed under the gaoler’s hand; and the
apparitions vanished from his sight for ever.
The wicket opened on a stone staircase, leading upward. When
they had ascended forty steps (the prisoner of half an hour already
counted them), the gaoler opened a low black door, and they
passed into a solitary cell. It struck cold and damp, but was not
dark.
“Yours,” said the gaoler.
“Why am I confined alone?”
“How do I know!”
“I can buy pen, ink, and paper?”
“Such are not my orders. You will be visited, and can ask then.
At present, you may buy your food, and nothing more.”
There were in the cell, a chair, a table, and a straw mattress. As
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the gaoler made a general inspection of these objects, and of the
four walls, before going out, a wandering fancy wandered through
the mind of the prisoner leaning against the wall opposite to him,
that this gaoler was so unwholesomely bloated, both in face and
person, as to look like a man who had been drowned and filled
with water. When the gaoler was gone, he thought in the same
wandering way, “Now am I left, as if I were dead.” Stopping then,
to loo