The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1866-09-22
THE IRON SIIROUD.
BY WILLIAM MUDFoRD.

The castle of the Prince of Tolf was
precipitous rock Of Scylla, and COM
manded a magnificent view of Sicily in
all its grandeur. Here, during the wars
Of the middle ages, when the fertile
plains of Italy were devastated by hos
tile factions, those prisoners were con-
fined for whose ransom a costly price
was demanded. Here, too, in dungeon
excavated deep in the solid rock, the
miserable victim was immured whom
revenge pursued-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
fell beneath this subtle and remorseless
spirit. He was the prisoner of Tolli,
and he languished in that rock-encir-
cled dungeon, which stood alone, and
whose portals never opened twice upon
q living captive.
It had the semblancc of a vast cage !;
for the roof and the floor and the sides
were of iron, solidly wrought and spa
ciously constructed. High above there
ran q range of seven grated windows
guarded with massy bars of the same
rnetal. which admitted light and air.
Save these and the tall folding doors be-
meath them, which occupied the centre,
no chink or chasm or projection broke
the smooth black surface of the walls.
An iron bedstead, Uttered with straw,
stood in one corner, and beside it, a
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
tripple-locked by the silent rutlians who
conducted him to it. Their silence
seemed prophetic of his fate, of the liv-
ing grave that had been prepared for
him. His menaces and his entreaties,
his indignant appeals for justice, and
his inpatient questioning of their in
tentions were alike vain. They listened
but spoke not. Fit ministers of a crime
that should have no tongue.
How dismal was the sound of their
retiring steps! And as their faint ech-
oes died along the winding passages, a
fearful presage grew within him, that
neverinore 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 he had been! Here
he was to end his life-a life he had
Just begun to revel in! And by what
means? BY secret poison or by mur.
derous assault? No; for then it had
been needless to bring him thither
Famine, perhaps-a thousand deaths in
one! 1t was terrible to think of; but il
was yet more terrible to picture long
long years in captivity so appalling, {
loneliness so dreary; thought, for want
of fellowship, would lose itself in mad
ness, or stagnate into idiOcy.
He could not escape unless he had thC
power, with his bare hands, of rendinl
asunder the solid iron walls of his pris
on. He could not hope for liberty from
the relenting mercies of his enemies
His instant death under any form of re
fined cruelty was not the object o
Tolfi; for he might have inflicted it, ant
he had not. 1t was too evident, there
fore, he was reserved for some premedi
tated scheme of subtle vengeance; anC
what vengeance could transcend in tiend
fish malice either the slow death o
famine, or the still slower one Of solitar,
incarceration till the last lingering
spark of life expired, or till reason fled
and nothing should remain to perisl
but the brute functions of the body?
1t was evening when Vivenzio en-
tered his dungeon; and the approaching
shades of night wrapped it in toto
darkness, as he paced up and down, re
volving in his mind these horrible fore
holdings. No tolling bell from castle
or from any neighboring church or con
vent, struck upon his ears to tell hoy
the hours passed. Frequently he woul
stop and listen for some sound tina
might betoken the vicinity of man
but the solitude Of the desert, the sllenC
of the tomb, are not so still and deep {
the oppressive desolation by which Il
was encompassed. His heart sun
within him, and he threw himself d,
jectedly upon his couch of straw. Hel
sleep gradually obliterated the col
sciousness of misery, and bland dream
waited his delighted spirit to scen'