Some, however, were past screaming, and babbled continuously in high delirium; and the ceaseless, monotonous talk of these tortured Tristram's ears from Courtrai to Lille.
They reached Lille long after dark, and were driven through the streets, between the bright windows of happier men, to the gloomy tower of Saint Pierre, that at this time was set apart for galley-slaves.

On entering the prison they were marshalled in a long corridor, where a couple of jailers searched them all over.
Nothing was found on Tristram but his packet of pepper-cress seed, which the searchers obligingly returned.

As soon as this ceremony was over, all who were not broken with fever were led up two flights of stone stairs.

An iron door was opened, and the sound of heavy snoring struck their ears.

Inside they perceived by the light of the jailer's lantern a dozen figures stretched on straw pallets, and between the sleepers as many more empty couches, for which the newcomers were left to scramble.