arkness.
The astonished and confused constable, by dint of struggling and
floundering about, succeeded at length in disencumbering himself of
the superincumbent load of snow and cornstalks, and was able to form
an idea of his situation. He found himself in a large hole, at a depth
of six or seven feet below the surface of the ground, to escape from
which every effort proved fruitless. In vain the entrapped Basset
sprung up the sides again and again, and grasped at the snow, in hope
to catch hold of some object on which to retain a hold; it yielded
to his hands, and every time he fell back more and more exhausted. He
endeavored to attract assistance by shouting, but it seemed as if his
voice mounted no higher than to the top of the hole. He looked up.
Nothing was to be seen but the moon gazing sadly upon him, and the
stars winking at him their glittering eyes. Frightened and vexed, he
threw himself upon the bottom of the hole, then got up, and dashing
down his cap, stamped upon it in ungovernable rage, vowing vengeance
against the traitor, Primus, who, he did not doubt, had led him
into the snare. At first the violent exercise, and next vexation
and resentment, kept him warm; but gradually the effect of the
first passed off, and then the latter, without its aid, was found
ineffectual to ward off the cold. The teeth of poor Basset began to
chatter, and tears of anger and apprehension fell from his eyes. He
started up, and again tried the walls of his prison, but they were too
steep, and too slippery, to permit exit, and at last, with desperate
calmness, he resigned himself to his fate, and awaited such result as
Providence might send. The thought of starvation and freezing to
death passed through his mind, but he was too fully convinced of the
complicity of the black to believe he was ignorant of his condition,
and satisfied that, however tricky, he intended no serious harm. There
was comfort in the thought, and as these reflections prevailed he
became more composed, while a sense of shame succeeded to that of
despair. Shrugging himself together to keep warm, and lifting up
his voice from time to time in a shout, if, perchance, some casual
wayfarer might catch the sound, the constable waited for deliverance.

Meanwhile, Gladding, for it was no other, who personated the Solitary,
and the General were cozily seated by the fire in the hut of the
latter, discussing the events of the evening. The false beard was
lying on a ch