locked and bolted upon me!

Thus does man act by his fellow, knowing him to be innocent, having
received the commands of another man so to act.

O God! Thou alone knowest how my heart, void as it was of guilt,
beat at this moment. There sat I, destitute, alone, in thick
darkness, upon the bare earth, with a weight of fetters
insupportable to nature, thanking Thee that these cruel men had not
discovered my knife, by which my miseries might yet find an end.
Death is a last certain refuge that can indeed bid defiance to the
rage of tyranny. What shall I say? How shall I make the reader
feel as I then felt? How describe my despondency, and yet account
for that latent impulse that withheld my hand on this fatal, this
miserable night?

This misery I foresaw was not of short duration; I had heard of the
wars that were lately broken out between Austria and Prussia.
Patiently to wait their termination, amid sufferings and
wretchedness such as mine, appeared impossible, and freedom even
then was doubtful. Sad experience had I had of Vienna, and well I
knew that those who had despoiled me of my property most anxiously
would endeavour to prevent my return. Such were my meditations!
such my night thoughts! Day at length returned; but where was its
splendour? Fled! I beheld it not; yet was its glimmering obscurity
sufficient to show me what was my dungeon.

In breadth it was about eight feet; in length, ten. Near me once
more stood a night-table; in a corner was a seat, four bricks broad,
on which I might sit, and recline against the wall. Opposite the