Now while we were in the coach I did make inquiry of Dom Lewis whether they were a-carrying me to the _Santa Casa_ (or Holy House, as the palace of the Inquisition is wont to be called, as though in mockery), but he refused to answer me, saying that I should discover where I was when I reached the journey’s end. And I therefore waiting patiently, we presently alighted, and after some ceremonies gone through before an officer, and the placing of irons on my feet, I was taken along a certain passage, and thrust into an extreme noisome and stinking place, wherein was already confined some thirty or forty persons. And these, I found, were common murderers and thieves of the town; for they rose upon me with one consent, and did take from me such money and other small matters as I had in my pockets, I not caring to resist them overmuch, as knowing that I should have no peace until they were well satisfied that they had left me nothing. And asking where I was, one advised me that the place was the _Aljuvar_, or prison belonging to the Ordinary, that is, the Archbishop of Goa, for that some law or custom hindered their carrying me at once to the Holy House. In this foul and filthy hole I was left for two nights and a day, suffering great discomfort, and this not only in my mind, from the company I was in, but in body also, inasmuch as the floor was so covered with all nastiness that I durst not lay myself down, but was fain to abide standing, or at most leaning against the wall, which indeed scarce pleased me better than the floor, for that space of time. This chamber of the _Aljuvar_ was situate below the level of the ground, and hollowed out of the rock, holding but one small opening to the light, through the which scarce a single ray could manage to pass. In the midst of the floor was a well or chasm, from the which, as from the lowest pit, there ascended evil and mephitical vapours, that were at times insupportable. I can scarce find it in me to cast up against the prisoners their robbing me of my money, and the eagerness they showed in this thievish work, since the Ordinary provided no food for ’em, and they must have starved had it not been for the charity of certain worthy persons, that brought broken victuals for to be given them. I myself had been like to have fared ill but for the kindness of the boy Peter, who brought me a basketful of such food as he could compass, the overplus whereof I did divide among my fellows. During the second night of my imprisonment I slept scarce a wink, being so sore troubled with the vermins that abounded in the place, and the stench from the well. Yet was not this discomfort wholly to be held a misfortune, since it hindered me from dwelling overmuch on the hard and unkind behaviour of Dom Lewis, which otherwise had sorely exercised me.