Edgar Allan Poe
I awoke from a deep sleep,lying on the cold,hard floor of a dungeon.It was as dark as midnight.For a few minutes I tried to recall the events that led to my being put into prison.My mind was almost ablank and I was weak from hunger.
Suddenly it came to me quite clearly-first,the soldiers and then the black-robed judges of the Inquisition.The judges had agreed that I must be punished and then die because I was a heretic.
As long as I live,I shall never forget the seven burning candles,the seven black robes,and the seven white faces.How could I make the judges believe that I was a Christian?
The charges against me were all false!At one time I had dared to find fault with the Inquisition and its methods of punishment.Somebody had reported my name,and now I was to pay for my folly.My careless words and my politics,not my religious beliefs,had fired the jealousy of the judges.
I was in the cell alone.The dungeon keepers had taken my clothes andmy weapons.All I had was a robe of coarse cloth that gave me little warmth.
In an effort to find out what kind of place I was in,I rose from the floor and began to feel my way along the walls.The floor was moist and slippery.By some strange reasoningI guessed that the cell was round in shape,and that it was built of pieces of stone or metal.I could not judge correctly,for I was upset and sick unto death.I tore a piece of cloth from my robe and pushed one end into a crack in the wall.Then I continued to feel my way along,counting each step.After I had walked around the room,and my fingers once again touched the piece of cloth,I estimated that I hadtaken over a hundred steps inside the wall.My efforts gave me no hope,for there wasn't a singleopening-not even a ray of light through the slightest crack.
My next effort was to explore the center of the cell.This I did by placing one foot before the other in slow steps.Suddenly my feet shot out from under me.The slick floor brought me down in a heavy fall.My body slid forward several feet before I came to rest.