When he grew more calm, he surveyed his gloomy dungeon. Alas! the
stronger light of day only served to confirm what the gloomy
indistinctness of the preceding evening had partially disclosed, the
utter impossibility of escape. As, however, his eyes wandered round
and round, and from place to place, he noticed two circumstances which
excited his surprise and curiosity. The one, he thought, might be
fancy; but the other was positive. His pitcher of water, and the dish
which contained his food, had been removed from his side while he
slept, and now stood near the door. Were he even inclined to doubt
this, by supposing he had mistaken the spot where he saw them
over-night, he could not, for the pitcher now in his dungeon was
neither of the same form nor colour as the other, while the food was
changed for some other of better quality. He had been visited,
therefore, during the night. But how had the person obtained entrance?
Could he have slept so soundly, that the unlocking and opening of
those ponderous portals were effected without waking him? He would
have said this was not possible, but that in doing so, he must admit
a greater difficulty, an entrance by other means, of which he was
convinced there existed none. It was not intended, then, that he
should be left to perish from hunger. But the secret and mysterious
mode of supplying him with food, seemed to indicate he was to have no
opportunity of communicating with a human being.
The other circumstance which had attracted his notice, was the
disappearance, as he believed, of one of the seven grated windows that
ran along the top of his prison. He felt confident that he had
observed and counted them; for he was rather surprised at their
number, and there was something peculiar in their form, as well as in
the manner of their arrangement, at unequal distances. It was so much
easier, however, to suppose he was mistaken, than that a portion of
the solid iron, which formed the walls, could have escaped from its
position, that he soon dismissed the thought from his mind.
Vivenzio partook of the food that was before him, without
apprehension. It might be poisoned; but if it were he knew he could
not escape death, should such be the design of Tolfi, and the quickest
death would be the speediest release.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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