indefinite period. What would Ida do, if she came out and found no one
to meet her?

His absence would make no one anxious, at all events not till more than
a day had gone by. Hitherto he had always taken his rents at once to
Mr. Woodstock's office, but the old gentleman was not likely to be
disturbed by his non appearance; it would be accounted for in some
simple way, and his coming expected on the following morning. Then it
was as good as certain that no one would come to Slimy's room. And, by
the by, had not there been a sound of the turning of a key when Slimy
took his departure? He could not be quite sure of this; just then he
had noticed all things so imperfectly. Was it impossible to free a
limb, or to ungag his mouth? He tried to turn his head, but it was
clear that throttling would be the only result of any such effort; and
the bonds on hands and feet were immoveable. No escape, save by Slimy's
aid.

He determined not to face the possibility of Slimy's failing in his
word; otherwise, anxiety would make him desperate. He recognised now,
for the first time fully, how much it meant to him, that meeting with
Ida. The shock he had experienced on hearing her sentence and beholding
her face as she left the court had not, apparently, produced lasting
results; his weakness surprised him when he looked back upon it. In a
day or two he had come to regard the event as finally severing him from
Ida, and a certain calm ensuing hereupon led to the phase which
ultimately brought him to Maud once more. But Waymark's introspection
was at fault; he understood himself less in proportion as he felt that
the ground was growing firmer under his feet. Even when he wrote the
letter to the prison, promising to meet Ida, he had acted as if out of
mere humanity. It needed a chance such as the present to open his eyes.
That she should quit the prison, and, not finding him, wander away in
blank misery and hopelessness, most likely embittered by the thought
that he had carelessly neglected to meet her, and so driven to
despair--such a possibility was intolerable. The fear of it began to
goad him in flesh and spirit. With a sudden violent stringing of all
his sinews, he wrenched at the bonds, but only with the effect of
exhausting himself and making the walls and ceiling reel before his
eyes. The attempt to utter cries resulted in nothing but muffled
moaning. Then, mastering himself once more, he resolved to be patient.
Slimy would not fa