Then came the clanking of chains and creaking of hinges, and I knew the gates were opening and the portcullis rising.

After the gates were opened I was again urged forward by the men on either side of me and the enterprising soul in the rear.
I noticed that I was walking on smooth flags in place of cobble-stones, and I was sure we were in the bailey yard of the castle.

Soon I was stopped again, a door opened, squeaking on its rusty hinges, and we began the descent of a narrow stairway.

Twenty or thirty paces from the foot of the stairway we stopped while another door was opened.

This, I felt sure, was the entrance to an underground cell, out of which God only knew if I should ever come alive.