was deaf; grief and fear had horrible possession. Myself, almost in a
state of desperation--for the sight was pitiful. I at last endeavoured to
awe him into a momentary quiescence, and strongly bade him at last to _die
like a man_; but the word "Death" had to him only the effect it may be
supposed to have upon a mere animal nature and understanding--how could it
have any other? He tried to bear it, and could not, and uttering a stifled
noise, between a yell and a moan, he grasped his own neck; his face
assumed a dark red colour, and he fell into a state of stifled convulsion.

* * * * *

When despair had wrought with him, I lifted him with difficulty from the
floor on which he had fallen. His relaxed features had the hue of death,
and his parched lips, from a livid blue, became of an ashy whiteness. In
appearance he was dying; and in the agitation of the moment I poured a
considerable portion of the wine which had been left with us into a glass,
and, after wetting his temples, held it to his lips. He made an effort to
swallow, and again revived to consciousness; and holding the vessel firmly
in his hands, got down with difficulty and at intervals, the entire
draught. When he found it totally exhausted, the glass fell from his hands;
but he seized and held one of mine with a grasp so firm and iron-like that
the contrast startled me. He seemed to be involved in a confused whirl of
sensations. He stared round the cell with a wildness of purpose that was
appalling; and after a time, I began to see with deep remorse, that the
wine I had unguardedly given was, as is always the case, adding keenness
to his agony and strength to his despair. He half rose once or twice and
listened; all was silent--when, after the pause of a minute or two, a
sudden fit of desperation seemed to seize upon him. He rushed to the
window, and hurriedly surveying the grates, wrenched at them with a
strength demoniac and superhuman, till the iron bars shook in their