overmastered him, and under its
impulse he would have burst through all restraint, and turned all his
energies toward forcing himself from his awful prison house.

He turned himself over. He gathered himself up as well as he could.
Already he was bracing himself for a mighty effort to burst up the
lid, when suddenly the voice of Girasole struck upon his ear, and a
wild fear for Ethel came to his heart, and the anguish of that fear
checked at once all further thought of himself.

He lay still and listened. He did this the more patiently as the men
also stopped from their work, and as the hideous earth-clods no longer
fell down. He listened. From the conversation he gathered pretty
accurately the state of affairs. He knew that Ethel was there; that
she had been discovered and dragged forth; that she was in danger. He
listened in the anguish of a new suspense. He heard the words of the
priest, his calm denial of treachery, his quiet appeal to Girasole's
good sense. Then he heard the decision of Girasole, and the party
walked away with their prisoners, and he was left alone.

Alone!

At any other time it would have been a terrible thing thus to be left
alone in such a place, but now to him who was thus imprisoned it
afforded a great relief. The work of burial, with all its hideous
accompaniments, was stayed. He could collect his senses and make up
his mind as to what he should do.

Now, first of all, he determined to gain more air if possible. The
earth that had fallen had covered up many of the chinks, so that his
breathing had become sensibly more difficult. His confinement, with
this oppression of his breathing, was intolerable. He therefore braced
himself once more to make an effort. The coffin was large and rudely
constructed, being merely an oblong box. He had more play to his
limbs than he could have had in one of a more regular construction,
and thus he was able to bring a great effort to bear upon the lid. He
pressed. The screws gave way. He lifted it up to some distance. He
drew in a long draught of fresh air, and felt in that one draught that
he received new life and strength and hope.

He now lay still and thought about what he should do next. If it had
only been himself, he would, of course, have escaped in that first
instant, and fled to the woods. But the thought of Ethel detained him.

What was her position; and what could he do to save her? This was his
thought.

He knew that she, together with th