He touched something! Something which it made his flesh creep to
handle; something which he would fain have dropped, but which he
grasped tight in spite of himself. He drew back into the outer
air and sunshine. Was it a human bone? No! he had been the dupe
of his own morbid terror--he had only taken up a fragment of
dried wood!
Feeling shame at such self-deception as this, he was about to
throw the wood from him before he re-entered the place, when
another idea occurred to him.
Though it was dimly lighted through one or two chinks in the
stones, the far part of the interior of the cavity was still too
dusky to admit of perfect examination by the eye, even on a
bright sunshiny morning. Observing this, he took out the
tinder-box and matches, which, like the other inhabitants of the
district, he always carried about with him for the purpose of
lighting his pipe, determining to use the piece of wood as a
torch which might illuminate the darkest corner of the place when
he next entered it. Fortunately the wood had remained so long and
had been preserved so dry in its sheltered position, that it
caught fire almost as easily as a piece of paper. The moment it
was fairly aflame Gabriel went into the cavity, penetrating at
once--this time--to its furthest extremity.
He remained among the stones long enough for the wood to burn
down nearly to his hand.
Pages:
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351