Pit and the Pendulum Page #2

It was my father's.

Sebastian Medina.

One of the inquisition's most | infamous, degrading...

- Sir, that is enough. | - Mr. Barnard, can you not see?

What was my sister doing here?

She could not keep herself away.

That noise I heard, is | that what was...

No, sir. That particular device...

...was not in operation | at the time.

Which device?

It's in the adjoining chamber | down there.

Please, Mr. Barnard, do not | go there...

I do not wish to discuss it.

The story, sir.

In detail.

This was my father's world, | Mr. Barnard.

Spare yourself at least | this, Nicholas.

How can I spare myself?

Was he not my father?

Am I not the spawn of his...

...his depraved blood?

His depravity is not | yours, Nicholas.

Why scourge yourself | because of it?

You have not answered me, don Medina.

I shall not dwell upon the | history of this...

...this blasphemous chamber.

Suffice it that the blood of a | thousand men and women...

...was spilt within these walls.

Limbs twisted and broken!

Eyes gouged from | bloody sockets...

...flesh burned black.

Why are you telling me these things?

What do they have to do with | my sister?

She had never been brought here.

She was too sensitive, | too aware.

Aware of what?

The malignant atmosphere | of this castle.

It destroyed her.

My sister was a strong and | willful woman...

...not subject to the influence | of atmospheres.

You have been here only | a matter of hours, Mr. Barnard.

You cannot know what it is | to live here...

...month upon month, | year after year...

...breathing this infernal air...

...absorbing the miasma | of barbarity...

...which permeates | these walls...

...particularly this chamber.

But it did not bother her | at first either.

Our life was good...

...rich with the shared | pleasures of our love.

Each morning I would bring | her breakfast.

In the afternoons, she usually sat | for me while I attempted all in vain...

...to capture her beauty on canvas.

I did that portrait which you saw | on her room before...

...but it is all inadequate to what I | called the loveliness of her.

We dined, sometimes alone, | enjoying intimate conversation...

...sometimes with the doctor.

And every night | Elisabeth would play for me.

Life was simple, quiet, | richly pleasurable...

...and then the darkness | began to fall.

More and more entering her room | in the mornings...

...I would find her awake and discover | that she had not slept all the night.

I tried to find out why, | but she had no explanation.

Her appetite began to fade.

She began to lose weight | and color.

I tried to make her eat...

...but something kept her from it.

I would come upon her wandering | in the corridors at night.

I tried to find out | what was wrong...

...but she never had an answer...

...except to say that... | that something was oppressing her.

Oh God, help me for my blindness.

I should have known...

Then one day she disappeared.

Frantic, I searched the castle | for her.

And then I knew.

The castle and its awful history | had obsessed her.

These very instruments of torture...

...which were my birthright | and my curse...

...now tormented her as well...

...infecting her with a kind of | haunted fascination.

And watched her drawn to one | and then another...

...as if the aura of pain | and suffering which surrounded them...

...was luring her to sickness...

...and to death.

Immediately I made my plans | to leave the castle with her.

We would travel for a while, | restore her spirits...

...and then make our home elsewhere.

Then on the very eve of | our departure...

...we heard her scream from below...

...the most hideous blood-chilling | scream...

...I have ever heard | in my life.

Just before she died, | she whispered a name.

Sebastian.

Sebastian.

Mr. Barnard.

Dona.

May I speak with you?

Yes, of course.

How is your brother?

Better, thank you. | Dr. Leon is staying with him.

I have come to ask you | to please believe him, Mr. Barnard.

He has told you the truth.

Has he?

Yes. And not telling you before...

...he only meant to spare you pain.

He is a good man, Mr. Barnard...

...a kind and gentle man...

...and I know that he adored | your sister.

I would like to believe him, | Dona Medina...

...but I find it very difficult | to do so.

There is something about him | I cannot help at sense...

...kind of fearful tension that...

I am sorry...

...but an air of | definite guilt.

Of course he suffers from guilt | Mr. Barnard...

...because of what our father did...

...because of what happened to | Elizabeth.

Perhaps it will help you | to understand...

...if I tell you something | that happened to Nicholas...

...when he was just a boy.

One day, while Nicholas was | playing...

...in a lower corridor...

He had been forbidden by | our father...

...to enter this chamber at any time.

The curiosity of youth, however...

...overcame his fear of challenging | our father's discipline.

He had to see the chamber.

Suddenly, there were footsteps.

It was our father.

With him were our mother | and our uncle Bartholomew...

...who was our father's brother.

At first it appeared that for | some inexplicable reason...

...our father was actually...

...conducting them on a tour of | his ghastly chamber.

Nicholas could see that both | our mother and our uncle...

...were uneasy, frightened.

Our father's smiling affability...

...as he described the workings | of these hellish instruments...

...turned Nicholas' blood cold.

He watched them with a mounting | sense of premonition.

Something was wrong, most | terribly wrong.

Even he, no more than | 10 years of age...

...could sense it like a | darkening vapor in the air.

There was no reason...

...for our mother and our uncle | to have been there.

As he struck, he kept on | screaming at his brother...

...one word, over and over.

"Adulterer! Adulterer!"

And then he turned on her.

Accusing her of vile debauchery | with his brother...

...cursing her as faithless...

...promising her the | agonies of hell...

...and payment | for her infidelity...

...and then before my brother's | very eyes...

...our mother was tortured to death.

Ever since then...

...Nicholas has been unable to live | as other men.

Always he is haunted by the memory...

...of that terrible day..

Your sister's death...

...came very close to driving, | him insane, Mr. Barnard.

I beg of you...

...have pity on him.

Help him by believing him.

I will try, dona Medina.

Well, I know you must be very | tired from your journey.

Good night.

Dona.

Who is that?

I'll see.

Where's Nicholas?

He is gone?

I must have dozed off in | that chair...

...and I heard...

I don't understand. | It is surely your brother.

No, Nicholas has never played the | harpsichord in his life.

Maria.

I heard the playing, sir.

Go back to bed, child.

Nicholas!

It was Elizabeth.

You saw her?

I did not have to see her.

I know her playing

Locked?

Yes.

Is there another door?

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