“But,” I rejoined, “they have done your work on earth and received no punishment for that.”
“No, rather they received reward. But here we take away that which has been given them and appropriate it within ourselves. The processes which we employ are bound to be severe, because, as you know, of themselves they will give up nothing, or rather very little.”
“But surely,” I observed, “when they see what suffering they are going through they will give up all.”
“Too late,” she whispered softly in my ear, and even as that heavy sigh had travelled through the arches, so these words, the saddest perhaps that human tongue has ever framed, rang through them too. It seemed as if a thousand voices from every cell whispered the words, so that one loud and unavailing lamentation became the universal atmosphere.
She unlocked the door before which we had stopped, but instead of the cell which I expected a long narrow passage ran both left and right.
Door followed door the whole length down, and the numbers on them corresponded to those on the outward wall.
The darkness here would have been quite intense had not my guide carried in her hand a clear light, which pierced the gloom for some considerable distance.
We walked along the passage for a little time, she leading, I following, till at last she stopped before a cell, and selecting a key placed it in the lock. Before turning it she extinguished the light she carried and left us in total darkness. Slowly, mysteriously and silently the door swung back and we passed in, and then it closed behind us. We had passed from darkness into darkness, but gradually the faintest light began to creep above the cell. It was so faint that till the eye became accustomed to it nothing was in the least discernible, and even then at times the heavy shadow fell again, eclipsing all things as gradually as it had cleared away. And now, huddled in the corner, I perceived a form, and as I looked intently I recognised a woman crouching there.
At first I do not think she noticed us, perhaps throughout she scarcely understood that anyone was there. Her hair, which was grey and dishevelled, hung over her bare shoulders and her forehead, uncared for and unkempt. She was lean and ghastly, and her thin fingers clasped each other round her bony knees, from which position she never moved. Her eyes were fixed on the floor in a steady yet unconscious gaze.
“If she doesn’t move before long I’ll poke her,” said Vestné. “We can’t wait here all day.”