The Crucified One.
Reading edition
So wildly beat his heart and throbbed his veins, As morn's first struggling gleam. His rift net caught, He e'en must follow its meandering beam, Till something on the walls his footsteps brought To rest. He shuddered as he saw the death-throe stains
Of some whose hands and ankles, staple-bound, Had graved thereon the sign Of crucified. "My God!" he cried, "such fate may yet be mine!" He turned and lo! close at his feet he spied A note. A piercing wail then woke the echoes round.
"To-morrow, Eric, will decide your fate. Confess and you are free; Else will you die A death of torture, marks of which you'll see Upon the walls around. Fly, Eric, fly, This night, this very night, or it will be too late!"