eyes, and I felt stupid, inclined to lie still. But suddenly the idea
flashed into my brain, like lightning darting among dark clouds, that
the old woman had made me do this thing on purpose. She had played me a
trick--and if she had, she must have some bad reason for doing it. Those
two sons of hers! I scrambled up, shocked and jarred by the fall, my
hands and knees smarting as if they were skinned.

"I've fallen down," I cried. "Do you hear?"

No answer.

I called again. It was as still as a grave up above. It seemed to me
that it could not be so unnaturally, so inhumanly still, if there were a
living, breathing creature there. I was sure now that the horrible old
thing had known what would happen, had wanted it to happen, and had gone
hobbling away to fetch her wicked gipsy sons. How she had looked at my
poor little purse! How she had looked at Pamela's watch!

I saw now how it was that I had been so stupid. The dim light from above
had lain on the last step and made it appear as if the floor were near;
but there was a gap between the stairway and the bottom of the cellar.
The lower steps had been hewn away--perhaps in a quest for the
ever-elusive treasure. Maybe a crack had appeared, and people, always
searching, had suspected a secret opening and tried to find it. Anyway,
there was the gap, and there was a rough pile of broken stone not far
off, which had once been the end of the rocky stairway. It was lucky
that I hadn't struck my forehead against it in falling--the only bit of
luck which the fortune-teller had brought me!

As it was, I was not seriously hurt. Perhaps I had torn my dress, and I
should certainly have to buy a new pair of gloves, whether I could
afford them or not; otherwise I didn't think I should suffer, except for
a few black-and-blue patches. But how was I to get out of this dark
hole? That was the question. I was too hot with anger against the sly
old fox of a woman, who had pretended that she wanted to say her
prayers, to feel the chill of fear; but I couldn't help understanding
that she had got me into this trap with the object of annexing my watch
and purse or anything else of value. Perhaps the gipsy sons would rob me
first, and then murder me, rather than I should live to tell; but if
they meant to do that they would have to come and be at it soon, or I
should be missed and sought.

This last fancy really did turn me cold, and the nice hot anger which
had kept me warm began to ooze o