I stopped, unable to move, breathe, or speak.
'I am wounded all over, right and left, fore and aft, long ways and cross ways, Death and the Devil!' cried the bravo.
'Am I bleeding?' said I, feeling myself with my hands.
'No, blessed St. Fidget be praised!' answered he; 'and now all is safe, for the banditti have turned into the wrong passage.'
He then stopped, and unlocked a door.
'Enter,' said he, 'and behold your mother!'
He led me forward, tore the bandage from my eyes, and retiring, locked the door after him.
Agitated by the terrors of my dangerous expedition, I felt additional horror in finding myself within a dismal cell, lighted with a lantern; where, at a small table, sat a woman suffering under a corpulency unparalleled in the memoirs of human monsters. Her dress was a patchwork of blankets and satins, and her gray tresses were like horses' tails. Hundreds of frogs leaped about the floor; a piece of mouldy bread, and a mug of water, lay on the table; some straw, strewn with dead snakes and sculls, occupied one corner, and the distant end of the cell was concealed behind a black curtain.
I stood at the door, doubtful, and afraid to advance; while the prodigious prisoner sat examining me all over.
At last I summoned courage to say, 'I fear, madam, I am an intruder here. I have certainly been shown into the wrong room.'