ed and drowned," he said to himself. "Now I am
entombed alive, beyond reach of hope or human knowledge. Never again
shall I see the sunlight, never revisit the surface of the earth,
never look upon my fellows nor hear the voice of man. I may live for
several days, but I must live them alone--alone must I bear my
sufferings, and finally I must die alone. What have I done to deserve
such a fate? Is there no escape from it? I shall go mad, and I hope I
may. Better oblivion than a knowledge of such agony as is in store for
me.

"And yet why should I lose faith in the Power that has thus far
miraculously preserved me? I am alive, and in possession of all my
faculties. I shall not suffer from thirst. I even have a certain
amount of food, together with the means for procuring fire. I am not
left in utter darkness, and, above all, I have not yet proved by a
single trial that escape is impossible. How much better off I am in
every respect than thousands of others, who, finding themselves in
desperate straits, have yet had the strength and courage to work out
their own salvation! What an ingrate I have been! What a coward! But,
with God's help, I will no longer be either!"

Having thus brought himself to a happier and more courageous frame of
mind, Peveril stiffly gained his feet, moved his limbs, and rubbed
them until a certain degree of suppleness was restored. He was about
to build a fire, but refrained from so doing upon reflection that his
stock of fuel must be limited, and that a fire might be of infinitely
greater value at some other time.

Now the prisoner began a careful survey of his surroundings by the
feeble light finding its way down the shaft into which he had been
flung. As it did not materially increase, he concluded that full day
had already reached the upper world. It was also brightest in the
middle of the black pool, which showed that the opening through which
it came must be directly above that point, and that the shaft must be
perpendicular.

Peveril called the hole a shaft, because, while he could neither see
to the top nor clearly make out the outlines of the portions nearest
at hand, it still impressed him as being of artificial construction,
while the opening at one side, in which he stood, also seemed very
much like a drift or gallery hewn from the solid rock by human hands.

The impossibility of scaling the sheer, smooth walls of the shaft was
evident at a single glance, and Peveril turned from i