They had brought her here while she was sleeping; and now, "in the dead
waste and middle of the night," she had waked up, alone in this
demon-peopled place.
She tried to cry out in her fear; but her voice died in her throat, and
she sank back upon her mattress and closed her eyes, lest some shape of
horror should blast them.
Then again she felt hands at work about her person. They were creeping
under her shoulders and under her limbs; they were lifting her from her
mattress. Her eyes flared open in wild affright, and she saw two black
shrouded forms, the one at her head the other at her feet.
She tried to cry out in her agony of terror; but again her voice died
away in her bosom, and all her powers seemed palsied. They raised her up
and bore her on--great heaven! whither?
To the open door of the vault, from whose haunted depths a spectral
light gleamed!
They bore her down the dreadful steps, and laid her on the deadly floor!
The iron door clanged loudly to, resounding through the dismal arches.
"We have her now!" muttered a hoarse voice. A hollow laugh responded.
And Sybil swooned with horror!
Sybil's further adventures will be related in the sequel to this work,
to be immediately published, under the title of "Tried for Her Life."