"Voila les
oubliettes! Voila les oubliettes! Subterranean! Frightful! Black!
Terrible! Deadly! Les oubliettes de l'Inquisition!"
My blood ran cold, as I looked from Goblin, down into the vaults, where
these forgotten creatures, with recollections of the world outside--of
wives, friends, children, brothers--starved to death, and made the stones
ring with their unavailing groans. But, the thrill I felt on seeing the
accurst wall below, decayed and broken through, and the sun shining in
through its gaping wounds, was like a sense of victory and triumph.
I felt exalted with the proud delight of living, in these degenerate
times, to see it. As if I were the hero of some high achievement! The
light in the doleful vaults was typical of the light that has streamed in,
on all persecution in God's name, but which is not yet at its noon! It can
not look more lovely to a blind man newly restored to sight, than to a
traveler who sees it, calmly and majestically, treading down the darkness
of that Infernal Well.
Goblin, having shown les oubliettes, felt that her great coup was struck.
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