his ears faintly
but distinctly with the snatch of a gay song.
With hot blood surging to his brain, the poor fellow tried to call
out, but the words died in his parched throat, and he could only emit
a husky whisper. Then he struggled forward, and found himself in a
larger space that widened rapidly until he was able to sit up and move
his arms with freedom.
He had reached the end of the passage; for, above his head, he could
feel only a smooth surface of rock. The singing had ceased, the ray of
light had faded into darkness, and the draught of air was no longer
felt. But Peveril had noted the aperture by which it had come, and
could now thrust his hand through this into a vacant space beyond.
It seemed to him that the rock above his head was but a slab of no
great thickness, and he tried to lift it. For some minutes he could
not succeed, but finally he secured a purchase, got his shoulders
directly beneath it, and, with a mighty upward heave, moved it
slightly from the bed in which it had lain for centuries.
With another powerful effort it was lifted the fraction of an inch,
and, though it immediately settled back in place, the prisoner knew
that the time of his deliverance had come. He could not raise the
great slab bodily, but with wedges he could hold the gain of each
upward lift. His first aids of this kind were the copper knives that
he had brought with him. Then, by a dim light that came through the
crevice thus opened, he used his pick to break off fragments of rock,
which were slipped under the slab.
It was thus raised and supported an inch at a time, until at length
an opening nearly two feet in width was presented. The moment this was
effected Peveril drew himself through it, and, with a great sigh of
thankfulness for his marvellous escape, lay for some minutes
recovering breath after his tremendous exertions and studying his new
surroundings.
Although the small amount of light greeting his eyes as he lifted the
rock had shown him that he was not to emerge into the open air, he
could not help a feeling of disappointment at finding himself still
underground. To be sure, he was in a spacious chamber or cavern, he
could not yet tell which, illumined by a faintly diffused light that
gave promise of some connection with the outer world; but he feared
this might prove to be another unscalable shaft, in which case he
would be no better off than before--in fact, he might find himself
worse off, for he
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