His first idea was that he was in a fearful dream, his next brought a confused augury of the truth.

He called, shouted, yelled at length in frenzy but no assistance came, and he was only answered by the vaulted roof of the dungeon.

The agent of hell heard these agonizing screams, and deliberately reckoned them against the taunts and reproaches with which Rothsay had expressed his instinctive aversion to him.

When, exhausted and hopeless, the unhappy youth remained silent, the savage resolved to present himself before the eyes of his prisoner.

The locks were drawn, the chain fell; the Prince raised himself as high as his fetters permitted; a red glare, against which he was fain to shut his eyes, streamed through the vault; and when he opened them again, it was on the ghastly form of one whom he had reason to think dead.