Washington standard. [volume] (Olympia, Wash. Territory) 1860-1921, 1864-03-05

This sterling story appeared, many years ago, in
Bldcksuoods Magazine, and was at the time widely
think draw attention for its vigorous artistic effects and
startling novclty.]
The castle of the Prince of Tolf was built
on the summit Of the towering and precipitous
rock of Scylla, and commanded magnificent
view Of Sicily in all its grandeur. Here du-
ring the wars of the middle ages, when the
fertile plains of Italy were dcvasted dy hostile
factions, those prisoners were confined, for
whose ransom costly price was demanded.
Here, too, in dungeon, excavated deep in the
solid rock, the miserable victim was imnured,
whom revenge pursutd-the dark, fierce, and
Implying revenge of an Italian heart.
Vivenzio-the noble and the generous, the
fearless in battle, and the pride of Naples in
her sunny hours of peace-the young, the
brave, the proud Vivenzio fell beneath this
subtitle and re,norseless spirit. He was the
prisoner Of Tolf, and he languishcd in that
rock-encircled dungeon, which stood alone,
and whose portals never opened twice upon a
living captive.
1t had the semblance Of vast cage, for the
roof, and floor, and sides were of iron, solidly
wrought, and spaciously constructed. High
dows, guarded with massy bars of the same
these, and the tall folding doors beneath them,
which occupied the centre, no chnk, or chasm,
or projection, broke the smooth black surface
Of the walls. An iron bed,tead, Uttered
with straw, stood in one corner and beside
it, vessel with water, and coarse dish filled
with coarser food.
Even the Intrepid soul of Vivenzio shrunk
with dismay as he entered this abode, and
heard the ponderous doors triple-locked by
the silent ruffians who conducted him to it.
Their silence seemed prophetic of his fate, of
the living grave that had been prepared for
him. His msnaces and his entreaties, his in.
diguant appeals for justice, and his impatient
questioning Of their Intentions, were alike vain.
They listened, but spoke not. Fit ministers OF
crime that should have no tongue.
How dismal was the sound of their retiring
footsteps! And, as their faint echoes died
along the winding passages, fearful presage
grew within him, that never more the face, or
voice, or tread of man, would greet his senses.
He had seen human beings for the last time
And he had looked his last upon the bright
sky and upon the smiling earth, and upon a
beautiful world he loved, and whose minion
hs had bssn! Hero he was to end his life
life hs had just begun to rsvcl in And by
what msaus? BY secret poison? or by mur-
needless to bring him thither. Famine per-
haps-a thousand deaths in onel 1t twas ter
ribls to think Of it-but it was yet more ter
sible to picture long, long years Of captivity
in . solitude SO appalling, loneliness so
dreary that thought, for want Of fellowship,
would lose itself in madness, or stagnate into
idiocy.
He could not hope to escape, unless he had
the power, with his bare hands, of rcnding
asunder the solid iron walls Of his prison.
He could not hope for liberty from the relent.
ing mercies of his enemy. His instant death,
under any form of refined cruelty, was not the
object Of Tol6, for he might have inflicted it.
and he had not. 1t was too evident, there.
fore. he was reserved for some premeditated
scheme Of subtle vengeance and what ven
geance could transcend in fendish malice,
either the slow death of famine, or the still
slower one Of solitary incarceration, till the
last lingering spark Of life EXPIRED or till rea.
son fed, and nothing should remain to perish
but the brute functions of the bodyl
1t was evening when Vivenzio entered his
dungeon. and the approaching shades Of night
wrapped it in darkness. as he paced up aud
down. revolving in his mind these horrible
forebodings. No tolling bell from the castle.
Or from any church or convent, struck upon
his ear to tell how the hours passed. Free
qusntly he would stop and listen for some
sound that might betoken the vicinity of man
Cut the solitude Of the desert, the silence Of
the tomb. are not so still and deep as the op.
prsssive desolation by which lie was encom.
paSead Hia hOert enul xv;th;n hin, orI ho