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which he supposed he would do in the same way as before. The mere thought of being approached by a living creature, and the opportunity it might present af learning the doom prepared, or preparing, for him, imparted some comfort. Besides, if he came alone, might he not in a furious onset overpower him? Or he might be accessible to pity, or the influence of such munificent rewards as he could bestow, if once more at liberty and master of himself. Say he were armed. The worse that could befall, if not bribe, nor prayers, nor force prevaled, was a faithful blow, which though dealt in a damned cause, might work a desired end. There was no chance so desperate, but it looked lovely in Vivenzio’s eyes compared with the idea of being totally abandoned.
The night came, and Vivenzio watched. Morning came, and Vivenzio was confounded! He must have slumbered without knowing it. Sleep must have stolen over him when exhausted by fatigue, and in the interval of feverish repose, he had been baffled; for there stood his replenished pitcher of water, and there his day’s meal! Nor was this all. Casting his looks towards the windows of his dungeon, he counted but five! There was no decepton; and he was now convinced there had been none the day before. But what did all this portend? Into what strange and mysterious den had he been cast? e gazed till
