We found ourselves in a narrow, lofty prison, like an apartment in a
tower. High up, in one corner, the grim stone walls were pierced by a
grated opening, which let in air and light. Seated on the floor, in the
angle formed by the junction of two walls, we saw the superintendent's
"lucky lunatic" at work, with a truss of loose straw on either side of
him. The slanting rays of light from the high window streamed down on his
prematurely gray hair, and showed us the strange yellow pallor of his
complexion, and the youthful symmetry of his hands, nimbly occupied with
their work. A heavy chain held him to the wall. It was not only fastened
round his waist, it also fettered his legs between the knee and the
ankle. At the same time, it was long enough to allow him a range of
crippled movement, within a circle of five or six feet, as well as I
could calculate at the time. Above his head, ready for use if required,
hung a small chain evidently intended to confine his hands at the wrists.
Unless I was deceived by his crouching attitude, he was small in stature.
His ragged dress barely covered his emaciated form. In other and happier
days, he must have been a well-made little man; his feet and ankles, like
his hands, were finely and delicately formed. He was so absorbed in his
employment that he had evidently not heard the talking outside his cell.
It was only when the door was banged to by the assistant (who kept behind
us, at a sign from the superintendent) that he looked up. We now saw his
large vacantly-patient brown eyes, the haggard outline of his face, and
his nervously sensitive lips. For a moment, he looked from one to the
other of the visitors with a quiet childish curiosity. Then his wandering
glances detected the assistant, waiting behind us with the whip still in
his hand.

In an instant the whole expression of the madman's face changed.
Ferocious hatred glittered in his eyes; his lips, suddenly retracted,
showed his teeth like the teeth of a wild beast. My aunt perceived the