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Major, Charles, 1856-1913

"Yolanda: Maid of Burgundy"

"
With these comforting words they thrust me into the cell, manacled and
blindfolded. I heard the door clang to; the rusty lock screeched
venomously, and then I was alone in gravelike silence. I hardly, dared
to take a step, for I knew these underground cells were honeycombed
with death-traps. I could not grope about me with my hands, for they
were tied, and I knew not what pitfall my feet might find.
How long I stood without moving I did not know; it might have been an
hour or a day for all I could tell. I was almost stupefied by this
misfortune into which I had led Max. I do not remember having thought at
all of my own predicament. I cannot say that I suffered; I was benumbed.
I remember wondering about Max and speculating vaguely on his fate, but
for a time the thought did not move me. I also remember sinking to the
floor, only half conscious of what I was doing, and then I must have
swooned or slept.
When I recovered consciousness I rose to my feet. A step or two brought
me against a damp stone wall. Three short paces in another direction,
and once more I was against the wall. Then I stopped, turned my back to
the reeking stone, and cursed the brutes that had treated me with such
wanton cruelty. It was not brutal; it was human. No brute could feel it;
only in the heart of man could it live.
By chafing the back of my head against the wall I succeeded in removing
the bandage from my eyes. Though I was more comfortable, I was little
better off, since I could see nothing in the pitiless black of my cell.


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