Tristram secured one as the door clanged and left them in pitch-black night, but gave it up to a pitiful wretch who crept near and kissing his hand implored leave to share it.

Curling himself up upon the bare floor, he was quickly asleep and dreaming of Sophia.
A hand shook his shoulder and aroused him.

Looking up, he saw a couple of villainous faces, which he did not recognise as belonging to the gang he had been walking with for two days.

It was morning, as he could perceive by the light that was strained through a cobwebbed grating over his head.
The two men demanded if he wished to be tossed in a blanket.
Tristram, not understanding, shook his head.
They thereupon demanded money and began to threaten.

Tristram hit one violently in the eye, and catching the other by the throat pounded his head against the wall of the dungeon.