I saw the grass, the drooping boughs of trees, and straight before my line of vision a little piece of the blessed sky, opal tinted and faintly blushing with the consciousness of the approaching sunrise I drank in the sweet fresh air, a long trailing branch of the wild grape vine hung near me; its leaves were covered thickly with dew.

I squeezed one hand through the grating and gathered a few of these green morsels of coolness--I ate them greedily.

They seemed to me more delicious than any thing I had ever tasted, they relieved the burning fever of my parched throat and tongue.

The glimpse of the trees and sky soothed and calmed me.

There was a gentle twittering of awaking birds, my nightingale had ceased singing.
I began to recover slowly from my nervous terrors, and leaning against the gloomy arch of my charnel house I took courage to glance backward down the steep stairway up which I had sprung with such furious precipitation.