It was quite true.  Had Dumiger been a state prisoner of the highest rank, he could not have been received with more ceremony.  The guard turned out, and the rattle of the muskets was heard as the massive gates rolled ponderously upon their axes.  The one light in the entrance gave an awful but not unpicturesque appearance to the scene, for it was reflected on the glittering steel.  It cast its wild gleams on the bronzed cheeks of the guards, while the length and height of the hall were lost in the gloom.

“Forward!” was the word, and tramp, tramp, tramp, mingled with the rattle of the chains of the bridge.  Dumiger was now placed in the center of the guard.

The soldiers presented arms to the burghers:  the burghers carried theirs as they passed.  The single drum beat, and its echo vibrated through the building.  The gates closed behind them—­bolt after bolt was drawn, and Dumiger was separated from the world.

His heart sank within him, and well it might; for as the moon shone into the courtyard beyond the hall where he was standing, he could see that the windows which looked into it were all trebly barred.  Besides, the building looked throughout so miserably damp and wretched; and there was an entire absence of care for the comfort of its inmates, which chilled his blood.

The lieutenant of the tower, after the conference with Dumiger’s officer had lasted some time, approached him.  He took him gently by the arm, and brought him to the broken, rotten, creaking stairs, which led to the upper rooms, or rather cells, from which they were separated by two large, massive iron doors.

The lieutenant himself opened the locks, while two soldiers, standing on either side with flambeaux, gave Dumiger a full view of the desolate stair which he had to ascend.  The passage to which it led had been taken out of the thickness of the walls, so massive were they.  They passed through a large hall where a huge fire was blazing, about which some soldiers slept, with their cloaks drawn tightly round them to ward off the draughts which came in strong gusts beneath the doors and even through the shutters; one or two with handkerchiefs tied round their heads, to serve the purpose of night-caps, were sitting by the fire smoking.  They took the pipes from their lips to salute the lieutenant as he passed, but beyond this notice paid no attention to the object of his visit.  It was evidently an event of no uncommon occurrence.  More passages, more bars, more doors battered by age and mended by slabs of iron, and at last Dumiger arrived at the room, or rather the cell, which had been prepared for him.  The preparations, it must however be admitted, were of the very simplest character.  A palliasse thrown down in the corner, a rickety chair, and the strangest apology for a table, were the whole furniture of the place.  Without one word of explanation the lieutenant motioned him into his new abode.  In vain Dumiger stormed and raved, and desired to know whether this was the way in which free citizens were treated in the free city of Dantzic.  The lieutenant only shrugged his shoulders, gave orders to the soldiers to withdraw, and Dumiger was left to his melancholy meditations.