In this romantic and distracted manner did they in vain endeavour to discharge their breasts of the load of anguish each sustained.—­Their misfortune was not of a nature to be alleviated by words;—­it was too mighty for expression; and the more they spoke, the more they had yet to say.—­For three whole days they refused the wretched sustenance brought to them; neither did the least slumber ever close their eyelids by night:  on the fourth the keeper of the prison came, and told them they must depart.—–­They endeavoured not to inform themselves how or where they were to be disposed of; in their present condition all places were alike to them, so followed him, without speaking, down stairs, at the bottom of which they found a strong guard of thirty soldiers, who having chained them in a link, like slaves going to be sold at the market, conducted them to a very stately palace adjoining to that belonging to the czar.

They were but eight in number, out of fifty-five who had been taken prisoners at the time Horatio was, and were thrown altogether in the dungeon, the others having perished thro’ cold and the noysomeness of the place, before Edella had procured them a more easy situation; but these eight that survived were all officers, and most of them men of distinguished birth as well as valour, tho’ their long imprisonment, scanty food, and more than all, the grief they at present laboured under made them look rather like ghosts, than men chose out of thousands to fight always near the king of Sweden’s person in every hazardous attempt.

They were placed in a stately gallery, and there left, while the officer, who commanded the party that came with them, went into an inner room, but soon after returned, and another person with him; on which, the first of this unhappy string was loosed from his companions, and a signal made to him to enter a door, which was opened for him, and immediately closed again.

For about half an hour there was a profound silence:  our prisoners kept it thro’ astonishment; and the others, it is to be supposed, had orders for doing so.—­At the end of that time the door was again opened, and the chain which fastened the second Swede to the others, was untied, and he, in like manner as the former, bid to go in.—­In some time after, the same ceremony was observed to a third;—­then to a fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh:—­Horatio chanced to be the last, who, tho’ alarmed to a very great degree at the thoughts of what fate might have been inflicted on his companions, went fearless in, more curious to know the meaning of this mysterious proceeding, than anxious for what might befal him.

He had no sooner passed the door, than he found himself in a spacious chamber richly adorned, at the upper end of which sat a man, leaning his head upon his arm in a thoughtful posture.—­Horatio immediately knew him to be prince Menzikoff, whom he had seen during a short truce between the czar and king Charles of Sweden, when both their armies were in Lithuania.  There were no other persons present than one who had the aspect of a jew, and as it proved was so, that stood near the prince’s chair, and a soldier who kept the door.