125 A fearful idea now suddenly drove the blood in torrents upon my heart, and for a brief period, I once more relapsed into insensibility. Upon recovering, I at once started to my feet, trembling convulsively in every fiber. I thrust my arms wildly above and around me in all directions. I felt nothing; yet dreaded to move a step, lest I should be impeded by the walls 130 of the tomb. Perspiration burst from every pore and stood in cold big beads on my forehead. The agony of suspense grew at length intolerable, and I cautiously moved forward, with my arms extended, and my eyes straining from their sockets, in the hope of catching some faint ray of light.
I proceeded for many paces; but still all was blackness and vacancy. I 135 breathed more freely. It seemed evident that mine was not, at least, the most hideous of fates.
Note Poe's use of words and phrases, in lines 125-136, to describe the dungeon