Vy,
zounds, it's shut of itself and bolted itself on t'other side!" "Some one must have followed you," groaned Thorneycroft. "We're watched
on all sides." "Ay, and from above, too," cried the Sandman. "Look up there!" he added,
in accents of alarm. "What's the matter? What new danger is at hand?" inquired the
iron-merchant. "Look up, I say," cried the Sandman. "Don't ye see, Tinker?" "Ay, ay, I see," replied the other. "The roof's a-comin' in upon us. Let's get out o' this as fast as ve can." And he kicked and pushed
against the door, but all his efforts were unavailing to burst it open. At the same time the Sandman rushed towards the ladder, but before he
could mount it all egress by that means was cut off. An immense iron
cover worked in a groove was pushed by some unseen machinery over the
top of the pit, and enclosed them in it. CHAPTER V

NEW PERPLEXITIES


For several hours deep sleep, occasioned by some potent medicaments, had
bound up the senses of Auriol. On awaking, he found himself within a
cell, the walls, the floor, and the ceiling of which were of solid stone
masonry. In the midst of this chamber, and supporting the ponderous
roof, stood a massive granite pillar, the capital of which was
grotesquely ornamented with death's-heads and cross-bones, and against
this pillar leaned Auriol, with his left arm chained by heavy links of
iron to a ring in the adjoining wall. Beside him stood a pitcher of
water, and near him lay an antique-looking book, bound in black vellum. The dungeon in which he was confined was circular in form, with a coved
roof, sustained by the pillar before mentioned, and was approached by a
steep flight of steps rising from a doorway, placed some six feet below
the level of the chamber, and surmounted by a pointed arch. A stream of
light, descending from a narrow aperture in the roof, fell upon his
wasted and haggard features. His dark-brown hair hung about his face in
elf-locks, his beard was untrimmed, and a fixed and stony glare like
that of insanity sat in his eye. He was seated on the ground--neither
bench nor stool being allowed him--with his hand supporting his chin. His gaze was fixed upon vacancy--if that can he called vacancy which to
him was filled with vivid images. His garb was not that of modern times,
but consisted of a doublet and hose of rich material, wrought in the
fashion of Elizabeth's days. After remaining for some time in this musing attitude, Auriol opened the
old tome before him, and began to turn over its leaves. It was full of
magical disquisitions and mysterious characters, and he found inscribed
on one of its earlier pages a name which instantly riveted his
attention. Having vainly sought some explanation of this name in the
after contents of the book, he laid it aside, and became lost in
meditation. His reverie ended, he heaved a deep sigh, and turned again
to the open volume lying before him, and in doing so his eye rested for
the first time on his habiliments. On beholding them he started, and
held out his arm to examine his sleeve more narrowly. Satisfied that he
was not deceived, he arose and examined himself from head to foot. He
found himself, as has been stated, attired in the garb of a gentleman of
Elizabeth's time. "What can this mean?" he cried. "Have I endured a long and troubled
dream, during which I have fancied myself living through more than two
centuries? O Heaven, that it may be so! Oh that the fearful crimes I
suppose I have committed have only been enacted in a dream! Oh that my
victims are imaginary! Oh that Ebba should only prove a lovely phantom
of the night! And yet, I could almost wish the rest were real--so that
she might exist. I cannot bear to think that she is nothing more than a
vision. But it must be so--I have been dreaming--and what a dream it has
been!--what strange glimpses it has afforded me into futurity! Methought
I lived in the reigns of many sovereigns--beheld one of them carried to
the block--saw revolutions convulse the kingdom--old dynasties shaken
down, and new ones spring up. Fashions seem to me to have so changed,
that I had clean forgotten the old ones; while my fellow-men scarcely
appeared the same as heretofore. Can I be the same myself? Is this the
dress I once wore? Let me seek for some proof." And thrusting his hand into his doublet, he drew forth some tablets, and
hastily examined them. They bore his name, and contained some writing,
and he exclaimed aloud with joy, "This is proof enough--I have been
dreaming all this while." "The scheme works to a miracle," muttered a personage stationed at the
foot of the steps springing from the doorway, and who, though concealed
from view himself, was watching the prisoner with a malignant and
exulting gaze. "And yet, why am I here?" pursued Auriol, looking around. "Ah! I see how
it is," he added, with a shudder; "I have been mad--perhaps am mad
still. That will account for the strange delusion under which I have
laboured." "I will act upon that hint," muttered the listener. "Of what use is memory," continued Auriol musingly, "if things that are
not, seem as if they were? If joys and sorrows which we have never
endured are stamped upon the brain--if visions of scenes, and faces and
events which we have never witnessed, never known, haunt us, as if they
had once been familiar? But I am mad--mad!" The listener laughed to himself. "How else, if I were not mad, could I have believed that I had swallowed
the fabled elixir vitæ? And yet, is it a fable? for I am puzzled still. Methinks I am old--old--old--though I feel young, and look young. All
this is madness. Yet how clear and distinct it seems! I can call to mind
events in Charles the Second's time. Ha!--who told me of Charles the
Second? How know I there was such a king? The reigning sovereign should
be James, and yet I fancy it is George the Fourth. Oh! I am mad--clean
mad!" There was another pause, during which the listener indulged in a
suppressed fit of laughter. "Would I could look forth from this dungeon," pursued Auriol, again
breaking silence, "and satisfy myself of the truth or falsehood of my
doubts by a view of the external world, for I am so perplexed in mind,
that if I were not distracted already, they would be enough to drive me
so. What dismal, terrible fancies have possessed me, and weigh upon me
still--the compact with Rougemont--ha!" "Now it comes," cried the listener. "Oh, that I could shake off the conviction that this were not so--that
my soul, though heavily laden, might still be saved! Oh, that I dared to
hope this!" "I must interrupt him if he pursues this strain," said the listener. [Illustration: Rougemont's device to perplex Auriol.]