UNDER THE EARTH. 177 
were in another apartment, or cell, about the size of the 
first. As Florence entered this room, and held her lantern 
aloft, she uttered a shrill cry of terror, and, turning, hid 
her face in her uncle's arms. 
It was no ordinary sight that shook the girl's nerves. 
The lieutenant felt a cold horror sweep over him as he 
followed her glance to the furthest corner of the room. 
There were two pieces of furniture — a rough deal table, 
and a chair. In the chair, with head supported by its 
hand, sat a skeleton, with its grinning jaws turned directly 
toward the intruders. 
The figure leaned against the wall, as well as the back 
of the chair, and was thus kept in the position in which 
death had come to the unhappy occupant of the dungeon. 
Scattered over the table were two or three bits of paper, 
yellow and mouldy. 
A few rags still hung about the bones of the hideous 
figure, adding to its fearful aspect. 
There were no indications of what had taken place 
previous to the tragedy, slow or swift, which had been 
enacted in that subterranean chamber of horrors, save a 
shallow excavation in the floor, near the opposite wall. 
A pickaxe lay on the heap of earth beside it. The work 
of digging seemed to have been abandoned on account of 
a ledge which was just below the surface of the floor, and 
which, while a deep crack had been made in it, or uncov- 
ered, by the pick, had discouraged the poor creature whose 
repulsive likeness alone inhabited the dreary place. 
