When the prisoner was brought into this room, he was again questioned; but, continuing contumacious, preparations were made for inflicting the torture. A lucky escape. Red apples and snow! How often had these two things entered his thoughts since his wanderings began? Red apples and snow!—and never again to behold them! "I am going out for a little while," she said. This done, he unloosed the pulley, and the ponderous machine, which resembled a trough, slowly descended upon the prisoner's breast. "I suppose it didn't drop through the ceiling, did it? Are you quite sure it's flesh and blood?" asked he, playfully pinching its arm till it cried out with pain. If only to say goodbye.
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