s carried off by the emissaries of Satan, who
are certainly waiting for it.'"

Nigel listened calmly while the governor was pronouncing his terrible
doom--one to which the Church of Rome had already condemned tens of
thousands of human beings for simply reading the Bible.

Without being allowed to say another word, he was seized by the guards
waiting the beck of the governor, and dragged out of the court.
Instead, however, of being led back to the prison where he had
previously been confined, he found that he was actually leaving the
fort. The governor was, in truth, afraid to keep him there, for a
considerable number of the _Madeline's_ crew, who were much attached to
him, were doing duty on shore, and, although they attended the Romish
service, he was well aware that still in their hearts they were
Protestants, and he feared that they might rescue him and assist in his
escape.

The priests had of late erected close to the church a small building
which they intended should serve as an inquisitorial prison where they
might keep in confinement any heretics on whom they were desirous of
expending their religious zeal. To this place Nigel was taken, and
thrust into one of its dungeons built especially under the priests'
directions. It was, in truth, little better than a pit dug in the
ground, with a small aperture towards the roof to admit light. On this
occasion they had obtained a party of soldiers from the governor to
guard their prison.

Nigel had not been long shut up in this dreadful place when night came
on, and he was left in total darkness, with only a bundle of dry grass
on which to lie down and rest himself. Brave as he was, he could not
but look forward with painful feelings to the fate prepared for him. He
thought, however, more of his young wife and the poor count. He feared,
too, that the hatred of the priests might drag them into the same fate.
Perhaps even now they were seized and accused of crimes for which their
tyrannical oppressors might condemn them to death. Sleep was
impossible, while the darkness prevented him from pacing up and down his
narrow cell, which would have been some relief to his tortured mind. He
felt for the pile of grass and lay down, considering that it would be
wiser to try and obtain some rest to prepare himself for the future
trials he would have to go through. The sudden destruction of all his
happiness, separation from his beloved Constance, and the agonising
deat