No sight or sound came up from that horrible pit, to hint of the secrets of the prison house. One shuddering glance at the awful void and then Capitola turned and threw herself, face downward, upon the bed, not daring to rejoice in the safety that had been purchased by such a dreadful deed, feeling that it was an awful, though a complete victory! CHAPTER XX. THE NEXT MORNING. Oh, such a day! So fought, so followed and so fairly won Came not till now to dignify the times. Since Caesar's fortunes. --Shakespeare. Capitola lay upon the bed, with her face buried in the pillow, the greater portion of the time from two o'clock until day. An uncontrollable horror prevented her from turning lest she should see the yawning mystery in the middle of the floor, or hear some awful sound from its unknown depths. The very shadows on the walls thrown up wildly by the expiring firelight were objects of grotesque terror. Never--never--in her whole youth of strange vicissitude, had the nerves of this brave girl been so tremendously shaken and prostrated. It was late in the morning when at last nature succumbed, and she sank into a deep sleep. She had not slept long when she was aroused from a profound state of insensibility by a loud, impatient knocking at her door. She started up wildly and gazed around her. For a minute she could not remember what were the circumstances under which she had laid down, or what was that vague feeling of horror and alarm that possessed her. Then the yawning trap-door, the remnants of the supper, and Black Donald's coat, hat and boots upon the floor, drove in upon her reeling brain the memory of the night of terror! The knocking continued more loudly and impatiently, accompanied by the voice of Mrs. Condiment, crying: "Miss Capitola--Miss Capitola--why, what can be the matter with her? Miss Capitola!" "Eh? What? Yes!" answered Capitola, pressing her hands to her feverish forehead, and putting back her dishevelled hair. "Why, how soundly you sleep, my dear! I've been calling and rapping here for a quarter of an hour! Good gracious, child what made you oversleep yourself so?" "I--did not get to bed till very late," said Capitola, confusedly. "Well, well, my dear, make haste now, your uncle is none of the patientest, and he has been waiting breakfast for some time! Come, open the door and I will help you to dress, so that you may be ready sooner." Capitola rose from the side of the bed, where she had been sitting, and went cautiously around that gaping trap door to her chamber door, when she missed the key, and suddenly remembered that it had been in Black Donald's pocket when he fell. A shudder thrilled her frame at the thought of that horrible fall. "Well--well--Miss Capitola, why don't you open the door?" cried the old lady, impatiently.