“Four days after, I was betrayed by a Portuguese friend, and nine officers of the Inquisition seized me, March 5, 1743, pretending I had passed my word for the diamond which Mr. Mouton had taken. In vain was my attempt at justification: the wretches took away my sword, handcuffed me, and forced me into a chaise. They commanded me not to open my lips; but I called aloud to a friend. They forced me into the prison, and delivered me to one of the officers of the pretended holy place. This officer bid the guards to search me, and take away all the gold, silver, papers, knives, scissors, buckles, &c., about me. They then led me into a lonely dungeon, expressly forbidding me to speak loud. It was then that, struck with all the horrors of the place, I plunged into the blackest melancholy. I passed a whole day and two nights in these terrors, heightened at every interval by the complaints, the dismal cries, and hollow groans, echoing through these dreadful mansions, of several other prisoners, my neighbours, and which the silence of the night made infinitely more shocking. These threescore hours appeared to me like so many years. However, I endeavoured to arm my soul with patience. I considered that, being a Protestant, I should inevitably feel all that rage and barbarous zeal could infuse into the breast of monks, who cruelly gloried in committing to the flames great numbers of ill-fated victims, whose only crime was differing from them in religious opinions. “In a few days, after having been shaved, and had my hair cut by their order, I was led, bareheaded, to the president and four inquisitors, who bid me kneel and swear to speak truly to all questions they should ask. They informed me that the diamond was only a pretence to get an opportunity of seizing me. I now besought them to let me know the true cause of my imprisonment; that having been born and educated in the Protestant religion, I had been taught to confess myself to God and not to man. They declared that a confession would be forced from me. They gave orders for my being conveyed into another deep dungeon; I was overwhelmed with grief, and gave myself up entirely for lost. “During my stay in this dungeon I was taken three times before the Inquisition, and I fell sick. A physician visited me, and another prisoner was sent to attend me in another dungeon, into which some glimmerings of daylight were admitted. Having recovered, I was sentenced to suffer the tortures employed by the Holy Office. I was conveyed to the torture room, where no light appeared but what two candles gave; and, to prevent the dreadful cries and shocking groans of the unhappy victims from reaching the ears of the other prisoners, the doors are lined with a sort of quilt.