Then would He start from the ground on which He had stretched himself, his brows running down with cold sweat, his eyes wild and phrenzied; and He only exchanged the terrible certainty for surmizes scarcely more supportable.

He paced his dungeon with disordered steps; He gazed with terror upon the surrounding darkness, and often did He cry, 'Oh! fearful is night to the Guilty!' The day of his second examination was at hand.

He had been compelled to swallow cordials, whose virtues were calculated to restore his bodily strength, and enable him to support the question longer.

On the night preceding this dreaded day, his fears for the morrow permitted him not to sleep.

His terrors were so violent, as nearly to annihilate his mental powers.