Down some forty feet, and
then a door was unlocked, and Rupert saw his new abode. It was of
about the same size as the last, but was altogether without
furniture. In one corner, as he saw by the light of a lantern which
the gaoler carried, was a stone bench on which was a bundle of
straw. The walls streamed with moisture, and in some places the
water stood in shallow pools on the floor; the dungeon was some
twelve feet high; eight feet from the ground was a narrow loophole,
eighteen inches in height and about three inches wide. The gaoler
placed a pitcher of water and a piece of bread on the bench, and
then without a word the party left.
Rupert sat quiet on the bench for an hour or two before his eyes
became sufficiently accustomed to the darkness to see anything, for
but the feeblest ray of light made its way through so small a
loophole in a wall of such immense thickness.
"The governor was right," he muttered to himself. "A month or two
of this place would kill a dog."
It was not until the next day that the gaoler made his appearance.
He was not the same who had hitherto attended him, but a
powerful-looking ruffian who was evidently under no orders as to
silence such as those which had governed the conduct of the other.
"Well," he began, "and how does your worship like your new palace?"
"It is hardly cheerful," Rupert said; "but I do not know that
palaces are ever particularly cheerful.
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