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ouched nothing; a thrust to left had no better result; and then he stood and wiped his brow. "I wonder what I shall find," he said to himself. "Cases and tubs, or old coffins." He thrust out the sword once more straight in front of him, and this time it touched wood, and made him shiver. For a few moments he did not care to move and investigate farther; but rousing himself once more, he tried again with his hand, to find that he touched hoops and staves, and that it was a goodly-sized tub. He tried again, cautiously, feeling carefully with one foot before he attempted to move another, for the thought struck him that not very far from him the opening down into that terrible well must be yawning in the floor, and under these circumstances he moved most carefully. He found that he need not have been so cautious, for after a little more of this obscure investigation he learned that he was in a very circumscribed area, surrounded on all sides by a most heterogeneous collection of tubs, full and empty, rough cases, bales, ropes, blocks, and iron tackle, such as might be used in a fishing-boat; and the next thing his hands encountered was a pile of fishing-nets. It was as he had expected: the vault or cellar below the chapel was full of the stores belonging to the smugglers, and his task now was to find his way out. It was of no avail to wish for flint and steel, to try, if only by the light of a few sparks, to dispel this terrible darkness, which seemed to surround and close him in, prisoning his faculties, as it were, and preventing him, now he had got so far, from making his escape. There was always the dread of coming upon that terrible well acting like a bar to further progress. Then there was the utter helplessness of his position. Which way was he to go? "At all events," he said to himself at last, "I can't go down the well if I'm climbing over tubs;" and he felt his way to the place where he had first touched a cask, and climbing up, he found that he could progress a little way, always getting higher, with many an awkward slip; and then he had to stop, for his head touched the roof. A trial to right and left had no better result, and there was nothing for it but to return and begin elsewhere. This he did, crawling over nets and boxes and packages, whose kind and shape he could not make out, but he always seemed to be stopped, try where he would, and at last, panting and hot with his exertions,
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