A Strange Manuscript Found in a Copper Cylinder James De Mille

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inconceivable horror of that embrace wellnigh overwhelmed me. Yet,
after all, it was surpassed by the horror of the thought that Almah
might be at that very moment undergoing the same experience; and for
her such a thing must be worse than for me.
I retreated as far as possible from them, deep into the thick
darkness, and sat down. No convicted felon at the last hour of life,
no prisoner in the dungeons of the Inquisition, ever could have
suffered more mental agony than I did at that moment. The blessings,
the awful blessings of the Kosekin were descending upon my miserable
head--separation from Almah, squalor and dirt, imprisonment, the
society of these filthy creatures, darkness, the shadow of death, and
beyond all the tremendous horrors of the Mista Kosek!
I do not know how the time passed, for at first I was almost stupefied
with despair; nor could I ever grow reconciled to the society of
these wretches, scarce human, who were with me. Some food was
offered me--filthy stuff, which I refused. My refusal excited warm
commendation; but I was warned against starving myself, as that was
against the law. In my despair I thought of my pistol and rifle,
which I still kept with me--of using these against my jailors, and
bursting forth; but this wild impulse soon passed away, for its utter
hopelessness was manifest. My only hope, if hope it was, lay in
waiting, and it was not impossible that I might see Almah again,
if only once.
Joms passed away, I know not how. The Chief Pauper, who is the
greatest man in the land of the Kosekin, made several attempts to
converse with me, and was evidently very condescending and magnanimous
in his own eyes; but I did not meet his advances graciously--he was
too abhorrent. He was a hideous wretch, with eyes nearly closed and
bleary, thick, matted hair, and fiendish expression--in short, a devil
incarnate in rags and squalor.
But as the joms passed I found it difficult to repel my associates.
They were always inflicting their society upon me, and thrusting on me
nasty little acts of kindness. The Chief Pauper was more persistent
than all, with his chatter and his disgusting civilities. He was
evidently glad to get hold of a fresh subject for his talkative
genius; he was a very garrulous cannibal, and perhaps my being a
foreigner made me more interesting in his eyes.