Another so nearly resembled a large serpent, I almost thought it was one; but I found it moved only when touched in a certain manner.  Then it would roll over, open its mouth, and run out its tongue.  There was another that I cannot describe, for I never saw anything that looked like it.  It was some kind of a machine, and the turning of a crank made it draw together in such a way, that if a person were once within its embrace, the pressure would soon arrest the vital current, and stop the breath of life.  Around the walls of the room were chains, rings and hooks, almost innumerable; but I did not know their use, and feared to touch them.  I believed them all to be instruments of torture, and I thought they gave me a long chain in the hope and expectation that my curiosity would lead me into some of the numerous traps the room contained.

Every morning the figure I had seen beside the dying nun, which they called the devil, came to my cell, and unlocking the door himself, entered, and walked around me, laughing heartily, and seeming much pleased to find me there.  He would blow white froth from his mouth, but he never spoke to me, and when he went out, he locked the door after him and took away the key.  He was, in fact, very thoughtful and prudent, but it will be long before I believe that he came as they pretended, from the spirit world.  So far from being frightened, the incident was rather a source of amusement.  Such questions as the following would force themselves upon my mind.  If that image is really the devil, where did he get that key?  And what will he do with it?  Does the devil hold the keys of this nunnery, so that he can come and go as he pleases?  Or, are the priests on such friendly terms with his satanic majesty that they lend him their keys?  Or, do they hold them as partners?  Gentlemen of the Grey Nunnery, please tell us how it is about those keys.

CHAPTER XVI.

Horrors of starvation.

One day a woman came into my cell, dressed in white, a white cap on her head, and so very pale she looked more like a corpse than a living person.  She came up to me with her mouth wide open, and stood gazing at me for a moment in perfect silence.  She then asked, “Where have you been?” “Into the world,” I replied.  “How did you like the world?” “Very well,” said I. She paused a moment, and then asked, “Did you find your friends?” “No, ma’am,” said I, “I did not.”  Another pause, and then she said, “Perhaps you will if you go again.”  “No,” I replied, “I shall not try again.”  “You had better try it once more,” she added, and I thought there was a slight sneer in her tone; “Perhaps you may succeed better another time.”  “No,” I replied, “I shall not try to run away from the nunnery again.  I should most assuredly be caught and brought back, and then they would make me suffer so much, I assure you I shall never do it again.”  She looked at me a moment as though