entered by an iron door. The captain of our boat handed to Mehemet, the aga, or governor, of the Black Tower, a letter from the chief pasha, on perusing which the aga said with a loud voice:—“What am I to do with these poor prisoners? They have not deserved so severe a prison. Is there no less severe prison to be found for them? It is not just to punish guiltless people thus.” And looking at us, for we were all weeping from the bottom of our hearts, and had our eyes bloodshot from weeping, he said:—“Allah Biuckter, kurtulur Siue!” i. e. “Fear not, God is a mighty liberator.” He then ordered that terrible door to be opened, and bade us go into the tower.
Now let every compassionate heart consider how great was our lamentation, weeping, and wailing, when we had no hope left of coming out again by that door to the day of our death, except as corpses. Alas! greater sorrow than this there is not! Where no hope more remains one does not wish to live. We, therefore, desired to die a sudden death before entering the tower. But all was in vain, for God would have it thus. When we entered that frightful gloomy tower we found in it the above-mentioned four prisoners, who welcomed us sorrowfully, and had no wish for us to be their companions in misery and trouble. Where each seated himself, there he was obliged to sit, to lie, and to have his miserable dwelling for more than two years.
The tower is very lofty, but not very wide, so that two-and-twenty of us and the first four, that is, six-and-twenty persons, could scarcely lie down alongside of each other; and, indeed, could not help touching each other. Inside the tower is a thick oaken lattice,
