out in the same way he was inclined to beat
a retreat.

"One more try," he thought, and struck three or four wax matches at
once; this proved effective and gave him time to see in the corner,
propped up, what looked like the body of a man. He must be mistaken;
he lit more matches, dropping the others on the floor, where they
spluttered in the wet and fizzled out.

It was a man, could be nothing else. He went toward the body, for such
he supposed it, bent down to feel it, and found nothing. This was
strange. He lit more matches. Now he saw space; there was no body
there. He stepped back several paces, astonished, lost in wonder; then
he saw the thing again, saw it distinctly, and it seemed to move. It
came toward him, or in his excited state of mind he fancied so. His
light went out; he had no more matches. As he groped his way to the
steps, or where he thought they were, something touched him on the
shoulder. It was enough to startle any man, and he cried out in alarm.
There was a faint, squeaking noise and a fluttering, then the thing
touched his cheek and he smelt a deathlike odor. Thoroughly alarmed he
groped out. He felt the damp wall; he had lost the steps; he must walk
round, feeling until he came to them, being a circular dungeon he must
come to them. It seemed an interminable time before he came to the
opening and began to scramble up on his hands and knees.

Tom Thrush waited in the boat. He thought him a long time gone and
hoped nothing had happened. He knew it was a queer place to roam
around. He whistled for company, then lit his pipe. Why didn't he
come out of the beastly place? What was that? It sounded like a
startled cry; it came from the tower. Tom shivered. He wasn't going
in there to look for Carl Meason, not for any money. The smoke came
from his pipe in jerky whiffs.

Just as he was about to step out of the boat, go to the door and call,
Carl Meason came out with a quick movement. Tom stared at him in
amazement, not unmingled with fear.

Meason was covered in dirt and damp from head to foot, there was blood
on his hands, his face was blanched, a wild look in his eyes. He had
no time to pull himself together before Tom saw it. His recovery
however was remarkably quick considering what he had gone through. He
had no desire to give himself away. He looked at his clothes and
laughed. In the open again his courage revived.

"It's the dirtiest damp hole I ever was in!"