Frank Sydney in the Power of his
Enemies his incarceration in the Dark Dungeon,
with the Dwarf.
The next day after the occurrence
just related, Frank Sydney, as was his custom, took
a leisurely stroll down the most fashionable promenade
of the metropolis Broadway; this magnificent
avenue was thronged with elegantly dressed ladies
and gentlemen, who had issued forth to enjoy the genial
air of a fine afternoon.
At one of the crossings of the street,
our hero observed an old woman, respectfully dressed,
but nearly double with age and infirmity, and scarcely
able to crawl along, in great danger of being run over
by a carriage which was being driven at a furious
rate. Frank humanely rushed forward, and dragged
the poor creature from the impending danger, just
in time to save her from being dashed beneath the wheels
of the carriage. She faintly thanked her deliverer,
but declared her inability to proceed without assistance.
On inquiring where she resided, he learned that it
was in Reade street, which was but a short distance
from where they then stood; and he generously offered
her the support of his arm, saying that he would conduct
her home, an offer which was thankfully accepted.
They soon reached her place of abode, which was a
house of genteel appearance, and at the invitation
of the old lady, Frank entered, to rest a few moments
after his walk.
He had scarcely seated himself in
the back parlor, when he was horrified and astounded
at what he saw.
The old woman, throwing off her cloak,
bonnet and mask, stood before him, erect and threatening;
and our hero saw that he had been made the dupe of
the Dead Man!
‘Welcome, Sydney, welcome!’
cried the miscreant, his features lighted up with
a demon’s triumph ’at last thou
art in my power. Did I not play my part well?
Who so likely to excite thy compassion as an old lady
in distress; ’twas ably planned and executed.
Thou hast fallen into the trap, and shall never escape.
But there are others who will be gratified to see
thee, Frank. Nero Julia the
bird is caught at last!’
These last words were uttered in a
loud tone; and were immediately responded to by the
entrance of Julia and the black. The woman’s
eyes flashed fire when she beheld the object of her
hate; she advanced towards him and spat in his face,
saying
’May the fires of hell consume
thee, heart and soul, detested wretch thou
didst cast me from thee, friendless and unprotected,
when a kind reproof might have worked my reformation.
Through thee I have become the victim of a ruffian’s
lust, the object of his cruelty; I have been struck
like a dog, (look at this mark upon my cheek,) and
I have been compelled to minister to the disgusting
and unnatural lechery of a monster all
through thee, thou chicken-hearted knave, who even
now doth tremble with unmanly terror!’
‘Woman, thou art a liar!’
exclaimed our hero, rising and boldly confronting
his three enemies ’I do tremble, but
with indignation alone! Dare you charge your
misfortune upon me? Did you not dishonor me by
adultery with this vile negro? and then
to talk to me of kind reproof! Pshaw, thou double-eyed
traitorous w e! I had
served thee rightly had I strangled thee on the spot,
and thrown thy unclean carcase to the dogs!’
’Silence, curse ye, or I’ll
cut out your tongue as I did the Kinchen’s!’
roared the Dead Man, drawing his knife. ’Nero,
what cause of complaint have you against this man?’
‘Cause enough,’ replied
the black ’he shut me up in a dark
dungeon for having gratified the wishes of his licentious
wife.’
‘Enough,’ cried the Dead
Man ’I will now state my grounds of
complaint against him. Firstly he
played the spy upon me, and was the cause of my being
returned to the State Prison, from which I had escaped.
Secondly he discovered the secrets of my
Anthony street crib, and administered a drug to my
wife which has deprived her of reason. And thirdly
he is my mortal foe, and I hate him. Is that not
enough?’
‘It is it is!’
replied Julia and the African. The Dead Man continued:
’Now, Sydney, listen to me:
you behold the light of day for the last time.
But ’tis not my wish to kill you at once no,
that would not satisfy my vengeance. You shall
die a slow, lingering death; each moment of your existence
shall be fraught with a hell of torment; you will pray
for death in vain; death shall not come to your relief
for years. Each day I will rack my ingenuity
to devise some new mode of torture. To increase
the horrors of your situation, you shall have a companion
in your captivity a being unnatural and
loathsome to look upon a creature fierce
as a hyena, malignant as a devil. Ha, you turn
pale; you guess my meaning. You are right; you
shall be shut up in the same dungeon with my Image!
the deformed and monstrous dwarf, whom Heaven (if there
is one,) must have sent as a curse and a reproach
to me; he shall now become your curse and punishment!’
Poor Frank heard this awful doom pronounced
which he could not repress. He could have borne
any ordinary physical torture with fortitude; but
the thought of being shut up in that noisome dungeon
with a being so fearful and loathsome as the Image,
made him sick and faint; and when the Dead Man and
the negro seized him in their powerful grasp, in order
to convey him to the dungeon, he could make no resistance,
even if resistance had been of any avail. Julia
did not accompany them, but contented herself with
a glance of malignant triumph at her husband.
They descended to the cellar, and
entered the secret passage, which they traversed in
profound darkness. This passage communicated directly
with the cellar of the house in Anthony street; a
walk of ten minutes brought them to it, and when they
had entered it, the Dead Man ignited a match and lit
a lamp.
The appearance of the cellar was precisely
the same as when Frank had last seen it. There
was the same outlet and the moveable platform; there,
in that dim and distant corner, lay the putrefying
corpse; and there, too, was the iron door of the dungeon,
secured on the outside by the massive bolt.
At that moment the fearful inmate
of that dungeon set up its strange, unnatural cry.
‘Hark my Image welcomes
you, Sydney,’ whispered the Dead Man, and, assisted
by the African, he hurried his victim towards the dungeon
door.
‘In God’s name,’
said Frank, imploringly ’I beseech
you to kill me at once, rather than shut me up with
that fearful creature for death is preferable
to that!’
But the two ruffians only laughed and
drawing back the bolt, they opened the iron door,
and thrust their victim into the dungeon; then closing
the door, they pushed the bolt into its place, and
left him to an eternal night of darkness and horror.
He heard the sound of their department
footsteps; groping his way to a corner of the dungeon,
he sat down upon the cold stone floor. Had he
been alone he could have reconciled himself to his
situation; but the consciousness of being in such
fearful company, froze his blood with horror.
Soon his eyes became accustomed to
the darkness; and as a very faint glimmer of light
stole in over the door of the dungeon, he was enabled
to see objects around him, though very indistinctly.
With a shudder, he glanced around him; and there,
cowering in one corner, like some hideous reptile,
its green eyes fixed upon him, sat the Image of the
Dead Man the terrible Dwarf!
Hour after hour did that mis-shapen
thing gaze upon our hero, until a strange feeling
of fascination came over him his brain grew
dizzy, and he felt as if under the influence of a
horrible dream. Then it uttered its strange,
unnatural cry, and with the crawling motion of a snake,
stole to his side. He felt its breath, like the
noisome breath of a charnel-house, upon his cheek;
he felt its cold, clammy touch, and could not thrust
it from him; it twined its distorted, fleshless arms
around him, and repeated its awful yell. Then
Sydney fell prostrate upon the floor, insensible.
When he recovered from his swoon,
(in which he had lain for many hours) he felt numbed
with cold, sick with the foetid atmosphere of the place,
and faint with hunger. The dwarf was ferociously
devouring some carrion which had been thrown into
the dungeon; and the creature made uncouth signs to
our hero, as if inviting him to eat. But on examining
the food he found it to be so repulsive, that he turned
from it in disgust, and resolved, sooner than partake
of it, to let starvation put an end to his misery.