Overcome by fatigue, her head drooped against the wall of the cavern, and she slept. When she awoke it was to look at the impenetrable darkness behind her. A nightmare? Where was she? Then, with a dull feeling of despair, she realized her plight again. Her shoulders and neck were shot through and through with agonizing pains, and she couldn't help sobbing—long, racking sobs.
At last she grew quiet. What time was it? She looked at the patch of sunlight that splashed through the opening. By its angle, sharply cut from the shadow, she confusedly reckoned that it must be considerably past noon.
She looked down at her feet, and discovered that the knot so carelessly tied by the old man in his absorption over "that little idee," had become loose while she struggled in her slumbers. There was sufficient leeway to work the toe of one slipper against the heel of the other. It came off, the other followed, and bending over, with her bound hands she pushed the rope down over her slender ankles and feet. The knot on her hands was secure. She rose and stretched herself, trying to relieve the ache a little, and walked towards the sea.
What was that noise? It sounded like voices—out there on the sea-wall. They were coming! Or was it the sound of the gulls—the mocking wind?
They were human voices, calling to each other as their owners crept along the path above the sea.
More fearful of them than the darkness within, she turned and hurried into the cavern, circled the elbow, and threaded the gloom, feeling her way against the cold walls. Re-
