书虫2级《陷坑与钟摆》陷坑与钟摆

The Pit and the Pendulum

I will not open my eyes. Not yet. I lie on my back, very still, and remember...

The black clothes of the judges... their voices, their words. You must die... I watched the judges' mouths – mouths speaking my name, ordering my death. You must die... Cold hands of terror closed round my heart. Then came a sweet thought – what wonderful rest there will be in the grave! After that, I fainted, and saw and heard nothing for a long while.

But I knew when they took me away from that room. They were tall men, moving silently. Down... down they carried me, down into darkness and terror.

I have not opened my eyes yet. I lie on my back, and put out my hand. It falls heavily on something wet and hard. Where am I? Am I still in the prisons at Toledo? Why am I still alive? The Spanish Inquisition kills by fire. Why have they not burnt me to death?

And now I remember other stories of the prisons at Toledo, stories of other kinds of death...

I am afraid to open my eyes. Not afraid of seeing something terrible, but afraid that there is nothing to see. And when at last I do open them, I am right. The blackness of the blackest night is around me. Am I already dead? No! A terrible thought comes to me. I am in a tomb – they have buried me alive in a tomb!

A terrible thought comes to me. I am in a tomb...

I jump up, moving my arms around me. I can feel and see nothing. This place is too big to be a tomb.

I walk on, slowly, until my fingers touch a wall. It is wet and cold. I begin to follow it round, but then stop. How big is my prison? I must know. I tear off a small piece of my long prison shirt and put it on the floor, next to the wall. I move on again, counting my steps.

Walking is not easy. My feet often slip on the wet floor, and suddenly I fall down. I lie there, with my eyes closed. I want to get up, but I am tired... so tired...

I sleep for some time. When I wake up, I put out my arm and find bread and a bottle of water next to me. I eat hungrily and drink from the bottle. After a time, I get up and follow the wall again, counting my steps.

When I find the piece of my shirt on the floor, I stop and think. My prison is about fifty steps around – so about thirty metres. Does it help me to know this? Perhaps not, but now I want to know more.

I start to move across the room, away from the wall. After six or seven steps, my feet slip on the wet floor again, and I fall heavily on my face.

And yet... there is nothing under my head. My body lies on the floor, but under my head there is... nothing. And I can feel on my face a little soft wind, bringing with it a smell, a warm wet smell – the smell of things that have been dead for a long time.

I put out my arm, and find that I am on the edge of a pit. How deep is it? I feel around the floor with my fingers and find a small stone. I drop it into the pit, and listen. After a long time, it falls into water.

At the same moment, a door opens and closes high above me. For a second there is light in my prison, and then it is gone again. But in that second I see I was just one step away from death in that terrible pit.

Shaking, I move slowly back to the wall. I have heard stories about the prison pits of the Inquisition, and they do not give you a quick, clean death.

Dear God, I am going to die in this prison – a slow and terrible death. Every second of every hour of every day I will wait for it, and the waiting will be as terrible as the death itself.

My fear keeps me from sleep for many long hours, but at last my eyes close. When I wake up, there is bread and water beside me again. So... they are watching me all the time, and come in while I am asleep.

I am very thirsty and I drink the water quickly. They have put something in it because at once I feel very sleepy, and I fall into a long, deep sleep. For how long, I do not know. But when I wake up, it is not so dark. A yellow light is coming from somewhere, and I can see my prison at last.

The room is square, and the walls are not made of stone but of metal. There are pictures on them, pictures of faces with wild-looking eyes – the eyes of devils. In the centre of the stone floor is the pit.

I cannot stand up! Why?

Now I see. I am lying on my back, and am tied to a low wooden bed, with many ropes around my body. I can move my head a little, and my right arm, and I can just get a hand to the plate of food on the floor next to me. But there is no bottle of water... and I am so thirsty. The food this time is meat, dry salty meat, which makes me even thirstier than I was before.

I look up at the metal ceiling above me. On one square of it there is a picture of old Father Time. He is holding a pendulum... No, wait! The pendulum is real – it is moving from side to side.

I watch it for a while, a little afraid. Then I hear a noise. Nine or ten large rats have come up from the pit. They can smell the meat, and are running to it across the floor. I make them go away again, but it is hard work.

Because of the rats it is about an hour before I look up at the ceiling again. The pendulum is still moving from side to side, but more strongly now, and... yes! It is getting lower! Then I go cold with terror. I see that the bottom of the pendulum is made of a great piece of metal, bright and sharp – sharper than the blade of any knife. It is right above my heart, and when it moves from side to side through the air, the blade makes a terrible hissing noise.

And with each move, it comes nearer and nearer.

I escaped death in the pit, but now I am staring at another death. I can do nothing, only watch in terror, and wait until that bright blade cuts into my body.

With each move of the pendulum, that bright blade comes nearer and nearer.

Hours, perhaps days, go past. I do not know how many, but the terror does not stop.

I have counted the moves of the pendulum... watched the blade come lower and lower... heard the hissing get louder and louder. Already I can smell the metal of the sharp blade, and I push my body up to it.

Come! Cut me! Be quick, give me death!'

I sleep, wake, and sleep again. And still the pendulum moves from side to side above me, and the blade comes nearer and nearer. When it reaches me, it will cut across my body, into my heart.

I cannot stop watching it now. I cry out, I laugh, I scream, and still the blade comes nearer. So many long hours of terror. When will they end?

I am hungry, and put out my hand to take the last piece of meat from the plate on the floor. Wait!

A thought comes into my head.

Could I...?

It is only a small hope, but...

The rats are still with me, waiting around my bed, watching me with their red, hungry eyes. 'What food', I think, 'do they eat in that terrible pit?'

They can smell the piece of meat in my hand. I can see their eyes, watching. The meat is full of fat, and if I put the fat on the ropes around my body...

I do this. Then I lie still.

Yes! Some of the biggest rats have jumped up on me. Now there are more, coming from the pit. Suddenly there are hundreds of them running over me, over my body, over my face, touching my eyes, my mouth with their cold mouths. Aaagh!

In seconds the blade will begin to cut into me. I must lie still, I must lie still...

And yes! The rats are eating into the ropes – I can feel it! The blade of the pendulum begins to cut my shirt, and now my body, but the rats have done their work and the ropes fall away from me.

I push the rats off, move away from the pendulum, off the bed, onto the floor. There! I am free!

Free – but still a prisoner of the Inquisition.

The pendulum has stopped moving. It is going back up through the ceiling. So, they are still watching me. What new terror will they send me now?

I look around my metal prison. Already, something is different, something has changed. What is it? And this yellow light, where is it coming from? I look again at the metal walls – and now I can see the narrow gap along the bottom. The yellow light comes from there. I get down to look, but cannot see through the gap.

When I stand up again, I see at once what is different. Those faces on the walls... the colours are brighter, and those wild, devilish eyes burn with – with fire. Yes, real fire! The walls and ceiling are burning, and the smell of hot metal fills the prison. Already it is hard to breathe.

I move away from the wall to the pit in the centre of the room. The burning ceiling sends light deep into the pit, and looking down, I see...

Looking down into the pit, I see...

No, no, I cannot – I cannot speak of it! Not this! No, no, not this! Oh, any terror, but not this!

I run from the edge and hide my face in my hands.

It is getting hotter, much hotter. Shaking, I take my hands away from my face and look up. What's this? The walls are moving. The room is changing, it is longer and narrower, the walls are closing in on me. So this is the new death – death by burning. Then come, Death! Any death is better than the pit!

But the burning walls push me nearer and nearer to the centre of the room – and the pit. Of course! That is what they want! The walls will push me until I fall into the pit! There will be no escape from this death.

So hot now, and getting hotter... the burning walls closing in... nowhere to stand... my back and arms are burnt... my feet are on the edge of the pit... I cannot hold... I give one last, long scream—

Voices! I can hear voices! Yes, and the sound of running feet, doors opening, men shouting. Now the burning walls are moving back. A hand catches my arm as I begin to fall, fainting, into the pit.

It is General Lasalle. The French army has arrived in the city of Toledo, and the Spanish Inquisition is at last in the hands of its enemies.