When that grew
monotonous and rather painful, I got up and, according to the
time-honored rule for people shut in unknown and ink-black
prisons, I felt my way around--it was small enough, goodness
knows. I felt nothing but a splintery surface of boards, and in
endeavoring to get back to the chair, something struck me full in
the face, and fell with the noise of a thousand explosions to the
ground. When I had gathered up my nerves again, I found it had
been the bulb of a swinging electric light, and that had it not
been for the accident, I might have starved to death in an
illuminated sepulcher.
I must have dozed off. I am sure I did not faint. I was never
more composed in my life. I remember planning, if I were not
discovered, who would have my things. I knew Liddy would want my
heliotrope poplin, and she's a fright in lavender. Once or twice
I heard mice in the partitions, and so I sat on the table,
with my feet on the chair. I imagined I could hear the search
going on through the house, and once some one came into the
trunk-room; I could distinctly hear footsteps.
"In the chimney! In the chimney!" I called with all my might,
and was rewarded by a piercing shriek from Liddy and the slam of
the trunk-room door.
I felt easier after that, although the room was oppressively hot
and enervating. I had no doubt the search for me would now come
in the right direction, and after a little, I dropped into a
doze. How long I slept I do not know.
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