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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