The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1880-07-02
SOMERSET. Pa. WEDNESDAY. JULY 2. 1880.

ance Is of no use p
Even after these words. the i'm.
port of which he dimly guessed. Sil
John would have tried TO strike al
least one blow for his life or for his
liberty but the cloak in which he
had been wrapped up was SO artisti-
cally and so securely fastened that
he could not move a muscle or utter
a cry. There was no help for it, and
he doggedly waited his fate. The
voices around him seemed to hold
a short conference, and then they
lifted him from the ground, and,
carrying him short distance, de
posted him in what he felt to be
a gondola. The journey was not
long, though to him it seemed to be
an age, and very soon the rocking
motion ceased. They evidently had
reached their destination. 4 few
seconds more and he was landed in
the same unceremonious manner.
After depriving him of his sword
and securing his hands, his captor,
released him of themantle, in which
he had been almost choked. He
found himself in very small pas
sage, dimly lighted and intensely
damp. The low ceiling, the strong
stone walls, the massive iron doors
that lined it, reminded him at once
of all he had read about the state
prisoners of Venice, and his heart
sank within him.-Without, how
ever, giving him much time for re-
Election, or asking him any questions,
his captors opened one of the cells,
thrust him in and bolted the door.
Left alone in the most absolute
darkness, our friend groped around
until he found a stone bench, on
which he dropped, completely un-
manned by the horror of his posi-
ton.
He had heard of prisoners being
kept in these state prisons for
months, even for years, without
light, with just enough of the coars-
est food to keep them alive, and
without the shadow of Judgment.
Others had been tried and executed
within these walls, and their friends
outside had never known their fate.
Was he going to be dropped into
the Canal grande ?" Or was he to
linger in his cell until his youth,
his strength, and perhaps his mind
were gone; to be released only a
wreck of his former self, as a warn
ing to others? There were many in
Venice, poor shattered being, heart
broken, half-crazed, Stunned by
everybody, who had once been the
leaders of fashion, of science, of pol
itics, until an anonymous note drop
ped into the Lions mouth had caus-
ed their arrest, and their trialless de-
tention in the underground-or
rather NEUTRALITY-SUSPICIOUS. of the
Serenissima.
But, then, who could have de
nounced him? Who could have
an interest in destroying him in
this cowardly fashion? All the peo-
he knew Were above suspicion; and
yet even the Serenissima would not
have arrested an Englishman, a
kings messenger, without some
good reason. In that dreadful 81
lence, broken only by the quiet
splashing of the water on the stone
walls in which he was imprisoned,
his memory particularly vivid,
recalled to his mind all the Incl
dents of his study. At last he re-
membered those few hot, foolish
words he had used that very night !;
they, and they alone, could be the
cause of his present condition. This
however brought no relief; it aggra-
waited only his fears and his despond-
ency, since he well knew what awful
punishments were inflicted on those
who, to use the Venetian phrase,
'blasphemed the government
Having settled the cause of his ar
rest, he gradually fell into a dull,
drowsy state of ofhalfunconsciousness,
staring blindly in tie darkness,
listening vacantly in the vain hope
of catching some sound, however
faint, of that outside world he had
so recently left. The silence was Us
complete as the darkness that sur
rounded him, and hours passed
without bringing any change. Now
and then a muffled sound reached
his ears. Was it a footstep in the
passage? Was it wave little
higher than the others? Was it on
ly a plaintive cry of the seamew ?
Or was it the dying gasp of a fellow
prisoner? He could not tell. After
very long time, of which he could
not even guess the length, he dis
tinctly heard a noise as of bolts
and key at his prison door; sudden
ly it opened, and a flood of light
illuminated every corner of his dis
NAL cell. Dazzled at first by the
glare of the torches, he could not see
the men by whom they were car
ried; but gradually, as his eyes
grew accustomed to the light, he
saw they were all armed; all mask
ed. and all dressed in black. In the
meantime his hands had been re-
leased of their fetters, and his guards
had quietly surrounded him. With
out a word, without a sound, they
led him on in their midst. Through
dark halls and narrow staireases,
through crooked passages and low
beetling arches they marched as
noiselessly as a group of ghosts sur
rounding a mortal man.
At last their goal is reached; a
door is flung open, and Sir John is
ushered into spacious room. At
one end, ON a raised platform, sit
ten judges, all masked, all draped in
large black cloaks. BY their sides,
but little lower down, are the
scribes of this silenttribunal. Judges
and scribes are motionless as if they
had been statutes, and not human
beings The first glimpses. of the
dawn struggling through the paint
ed windows, powerless as vet to
supersede the wax candles, gave to
the whole scene the most weired
aspect. Outside. all was sleeping