In the dim candle-light he could distinguish the four walls of the dungeon, glistening with the water and mold that reeked from between their rotting logs.

The floor was of wet, sticky earth which clung to his boots, and the air that he breathed filled his nostrils and throat with the uncomfortable thickness of a night fog at sea.

Through it the candle burned in a misty halo.

Near the candle, which stood on a shelf-like table against one of the walls, was a big dish which caught Nathaniel's eyes.
"What's that ?" he asked pointing toward it.
"Grub," replied Neil.

"Hungry ?" He went to the table and got the plate of food.