and began to tear frantically at the bank....

"Little by little she seemed to make headway.... But it appeared like
an eternity,--and I felt certain that the man in the wall using his
body as a plug must presently give up the ghost and be hurled back
into our cell.... I then noticed the water around us DROP quickly,
and, turning in the direction of Maria I saw her body being caught
up by the current and sucked painfully forward into the opening her
delicate hands had made.... It was too horrible to endure!... Now,
while there is no blood of martyrs in my veins, and while I had
PROMISED the sombre figure in Berlin TO DO A CERTAIN THING which a
martyr impulse might prevent if I tried to be a hero in this instance,
I simply could not look at that girl's struggles without going to her
rescue _no matter what it cost_...."

32. The following then appears:

"I have no recollection of what happened after I grasped Maria by
the feet.... All I remember is that I felt myself being dragged along
after her through a blinding sheet of muddy, gritty substance, head
foremost like a drowning man.... I imagined myself in mid-ocean
clinging to some broken shaft after my vessel had been torpedoed, and
I clung to those slender ankles as the only hope of life!... When I
did recover there was Maria bending over me and vigorously see-sawing
my arms back and forth in an effort to resuscitate me.... If ever
there were an excuse for the chivalry of the Middle Ages it must have
crept out of those dark moments when some puissant knight opened his
tired eyelids upon a vision such as I then beheld!... But there was
no time for Don Quixoting in that damp and muddy tunnel.... We noticed
that the waters neither rose nor fell.... So we plowed our way back to
the other members of our party as speedily as we could.... On arriving
at the wall again we found my 'prisoner' lying propped up against
a large slab of concrete and breathing heavily while he held the
Empress' hand and essayed a feeble smile...."

33. The following entry seems to dovetail in:

"The walls of this old _cistern_ promise very little assurance for
our escape.... Still the cistern has its uses in circumstances like
these.... We KNOW, at least, that some kind of human beings are not
beyond our voices if we decide to call for help.... But WHAT KIND of
help?... That is the question.... Last night, as I stood on the floor
of the cistern I heard an amusing conversation.... A voice
over