Колодец и маятник

           Andnow,asIstillcontinuedtostepcautiouslyonward,therecamethronginguponmyrecollectionathousandvaguerumorsofthehorrorsofToledo. Ofthedungeonstherehadbeenstrangethingsnarrated—fablesIhadalwaysdeemedthem—butyetstrange,andtooghastlytorepeat,saveinawhisper. WasIlefttoperishofstarvationinthissubterraneanworldofdarkness;orwhatfate,perhapsevenmorefearful,awaitedme? Thattheresultwouldbedeath,andadeathofmorethancustomarybitterness,Iknewtoowellthecharacterofmyjudgestodoubt. Themodeandthehourwereallthatoccupiedordistractedme. 

           Myoutstretchedhandsatlengthencounteredsomesolidobstruction. Itwasawall,seeminglyofstonemasonry—verysmooth,slimy,andcold. Ifolloweditup;steppingwithallthecarefuldistrustwithwhichcertainantiquenarrativeshadinspiredme. Thisprocess,however,affordedmenomeansofascertainingthedimensionsofmydungeon;asImightmakeitscircuit,andreturntothepointwhenceIsetout,withoutbeingawareofthefact;soperfectlyuniformseemedthewall. Ithereforesoughttheknifewhichhadbeeninmypocket,whenledintotheinquisitorialchamber;butitwasgone; myclotheshadbeenexchangedforawrapperofcoarseserge. Ihadthoughtofforcingthebladeinsomeminutecreviceofthemasonry,soastoidentifymypointofdeparture. Thedifficulty,nevertheless,wasbuttrivial;although,inthedisorderofmyfancy,itseemedatfirstinsuperable.