I heard him thraw the key, for I could not look down, the skin of my face was pulled so tight; and in he flang me like a pair of old boots into his booth, where I landed on my knees upon a raw bloody calf's skin.

I thought I would have gone out of my wits, when I heard the door locked upon me, and looked round me in such an unearthly place.

It had only one sparred window, and there was a garden behind; but how was I to get out?
I danced round and round about, stamping my heels on the floor, and rubbing my begritten face with my coat sleeve.

To make matters worse, it was wearing to the darkening.

The floor was all covered with lappered blood, and sheep and calf skins.