deep hollow reverberation,
like a death-knell, in his ear.

"Hark! that iron tongue--lost--lost! Oh! mercy, mercy!" shrieked the
death-painter, covering his eyes.

At this moment De Vessey heard a noise like the jarring of bolts and
hinges. Ere he was aware the skeleton's arms were fastened round him;
the doors closed; the floor gave way under his feet. He felt the
pressure relaxing; he fell; the hissing wind rushed in his ears.
Stunned with his fall, he lay for a while in the dark, scarcely able
to move. It was not long ere he was able to grope about. Rotting
carcases and bones met his touch--a noisome charnel-house gorged with
human bodies in all the various stages of decay. His heart sickened
with a fearful apprehension that he was left to perish by a lingering
death, like those around him. Despair for the first time benumbed his
faculties. His courage gave way at the dreadful anticipation, and he
grasped the very carcase on which he trod for succour.

Suddenly, a loud yell burst above him. A blaze of burning timbers
flashed forth--crackling, they hissed, and fell into the vault.
Through an opening overhead he saw the skeleton seized by devouring
flames. They twined, they clung round it. Their forky tongues licked
the bones that appeared to writhe and crawl in living agony.

Soon the chain which held the portrait gave way, and it dropped at his
feet unhurt. A shriek issued from the flaming cabinet, and he saw the
painter with a burning torch above. A maniac joy lighted up his
features; he shouted to De Vessey, and with frantic gestures beckoned
that he should escape.

"If thou canst climb yonder stair," he cried, "before the flames cut
off thy retreat, thou art safe. See, Leonora is already free.
Haste--this way--there--there--now leap--mind thy footing--'tis too
frail--creep round--those rafters are unbroken; another spring, and
thou mayest reach them in safety."

The flames were close upon him. He was nigh suffocated. A perilous
attempt; but at length he gained the upper floor, and his deliverer
exclaimed--

"Thanks, thanks, he is safe! By this good hand, too, that wrought your
misery. Oh! that a life of penitence and prayer might atone for my
guilt. It was a thought inspired by Heaven, prompted me to set on fire
that insatiate demon, to whom my taskmaster offered those wretched
victims, and every month a bride, on pain of his own destruction. What
might be the nature of that skeleton form, or their compac