The prisoner being thus effectually secured, the officials felt more
easy; and smiling at each other, they proceeded deliberately to the
porter's lodge, at the entrance of which stood a huge, powerfully-built,
ill-favoured man, evidently chosen for the post of porter from his
personal strength and the savageness of his disposition.
With a growl like that of a mastiff, to the black broad muzzle of which
animal his own features bore a remarkable resemblance, the porter
greeted the new comers, and ushered them into an apartment built of
stone, octagonal in shape, with a vaulted roof, narrow windows like
loopholes, and a great stone fireplace. Its walls, which resembled those
of an ancient guardroom, were appropriately enough garnished with
fetters; mixed up with which, as if to inspire greater terror among the
beholders, were an executioner's heavy whip, with many knotted thongs,
several knives, with strange blades, the purpose of which was obvious
enough, and branding-irons.
As Sir Jocelyn was brought into the lodge by his guards, an elderly man,
with a bald head and gray beard and moustaches, and possessing, in spite
of his years, a most repulsive physiognomy, advanced to meet him. His
doublet and hose were of murrey-colour; and his inflamed visage,
blood-shot eyes, fiery nose, and blotchy forehead, were in keeping with
the hue of his apparel. This was Joachim Tunstall, Deputy Warden of the
Fleet.
Pages:
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164