What if something should occur making it impossible for either to act?
What if this was a trick, and I had been actually buried alive?
I grew morbid, suspicious, almost convinced that I was the victim of conspiracy.

Then, somehow, a flash of courage returned, and I caught at these fears, as memory of those honest blue eyes came again.

I would not permit such a thought to dominate me; it was not possible--the very conception was insanity.
Yet I went over the rough surface again before retracing my steps down to the room below.

All this must have taken fully an hour of time, and the strain of disappointment left me tired, as though I had done a day's work.

I sank back into the chair, watching the candle burn away, trying in vain to think out some course of action if those above failed me.