ranean passages, and naturally stories of the Catacombs
presented themselves to me, and I thought how the early Christians had
guided themselves through those dim corridors by means of a line or
string; the fantastic notion came to me that I was in a like
predicament, and the line I was to follow was the steel rail at my feet.
For awhile this thought gave me courage, making me realize how straight
the way was, and that I had only to go on and on until the goal was
reached.

I walked for, perhaps, twenty minutes or half an hour, sometimes passing
a small grating for ventilation; but they were so choked by weeds and
rubbish that they gave little light and less air. Walking quickly
through a dark place, one has the feeling that unseen objects are close
at hand, and that at any moment you may come in sharp contact with them.
It was this feeling, at least, which made me as I went along continually
put out my hand as if to ward off a blow, and suddenly, while my right
foot still rested on the smooth steel rail, my left hand struck against
the wall of the tunnel. As my fingers grated on the rough brick a new
terror took possession of me--or at least, if not a new terror, one of
the fears which had haunted me at the outset rushed upon me with
redoubled force.

I had faced the possibility of the station-master's having been
mistaken, and of a train passing through the tunnel while I was still
there, but I told myself I had only to stand close in to the wall, until
the train had gone on its way; now, however, I felt, with a sinking
horror at my heart, that there was little room to spare. Again and again
I tested it, standing with my foot well planted on the rail and my arm
outstretched until my fingers touched the bricks. There was a
fascination in it--much as in the case of a timid swimmer who cannot
bear to think he is out of depth and must keep putting down his foot to
try for the bottom, knowing all the while he is only rendering himself
more nervous. During the next ten minutes I know I worked myself into a
perfect agony of mind, imagining the very worst that could happen.
Suppose that the up and the down trains should cross in the tunnel, what
chance should I then have? The mere thought was appalling! Retreat was
impossible, for I must have come more than half way by this time, and
turning back would only be going to meet the express. But surely in the
thickness of the wall there must be here and there recesses? I was sure