something had shut up thought and sense in the
dark, and not a wink of light could get in. But
there I was in a sort of dreamy comfortable
state, and lay there perfectly still, till a groaning
noise roused me, when thought come back with
a blinding flash, and so sharp was that flash that
my brain seemed scorched, for I knew that I was
buried alive.

For a few minutes I stood where I first rose
up in a half-stooping position, with my head and
shoulders touching the poles and boards above
me; but a fresh groan made me begin to feel
about in the darkness, and try to find out where
I was, and how much room I had to move in.
But that was soon done, for at the bottom there
was about a yard space, and as far up as I
could reach it seemed a couple of yards, while
the other way there was the width of the tunnel.
I dared not move much, though, for the earth
and broken brickwork kept rolling and crumbling
in, so that every moment the space grew less,
and a cold sweat came out all over my face, as
I thought that I should soon be crushed and
covered completely up. Just then, however,
another groan sounded close by me, and for the
first time I remembered Sam Carberry, and
began feeling about in the direction from whence
the sound came.

Bricks, bits o' stone, crumbling gravel, the
uprights and cross-pieces and bits of board all
in splinters, and snapped in two and three
pieces, with their ragged ends sticking out of
the gravel. But I could feel nothing of Sam, and
I sat down at last, panting as though I had been
running, and there was the big drops a-rolling
off me, while I drew every breath that heavy that
I grew wild with horror and fear; for it seemed
as though I shouldn't be able to breathe much
longer, and then I must be stifled. It was
awful, the thoughts of all that; and had such an
effect on me, that I dashed about like a bird in
a cage—now here, now there—in mad efforts
and struggles to get out. I cried, " Help, help!"
and swore and tore about, jumping up and
plunging my hands into the earth; till at last,
panting, and bleeding, and helpless, I lay upon
the gravel crying like a child.

Ah! That did me good, and seemed to
clear my thoughts, and make me mad with
myself to think I had been wasting my strength
so for nothing, when perhaps I might have been
doing something towards making my escape;
and while I was thinking like this, all at once I
started, for there was a groan again close to my
head; then, after feeling about a bit, I got
my hand upon a bit of broken board, when I
felt a groan again, and then, after searching
about, found that underneath the board was a
face which, by scratching away the earth, I
could touch, and feel to be warm.

The first thing I did was to start up and
strike my head violently against a cross-piece,
so that I was half stunned; and then I began
to feel about for a shovel till I got hold of a
handle, and found that the rest was so tightly
bedded in the soil, that I must have been a good
hour grubbing it out with my fingers. But I
kept leaving off to go and speak to the face,
which I knew must be that of Sam Carberry;
and though, poor fellow, it did him no good, he
being quite insensible, yet it did me good, for
there was company—I was not alone—and after
leaving off that way now and then, I worked
again like a good 'un till the shovel was at
liberty; for while I was hard at work, I had no
time to think about anything else.

And now, though I could feel that poor Sam
was breathing, he didn't groan; and I began
with the shovel to try and set his face more at
liberty; but at the first trial I threw down the
tool with a horrible cry, as the loose gravel came
rattling down, and in another minute the poor
fellow's face would have been completely
covered, if I had not thrust myself against the
earth and kept it back.

If I could only have kept from thinking, I
would not have cared; but now that I was
forced to keep still and hold up the earth, the
thoughts would keep coming thick and fast,
and mixed up with them all were coffins—black
cloth coffins with white nails; black coffins with
black nails; elm coffins; workhouse shells; and
inside every one of 'em I could see myself lying
stiff and cold. There was one light-grained elm,
which looked sometimes quite like a little speck
right off in the distance, and then came gradually
closer, and closer, and closer, till it seemed
as though the next moment it would crush me,
or drive me into the earth where I was crouching;
then it would gradually go back further
and further, till it was quite a speck again. Then
there were processions o' people in black,
constantly crowding by.

Now and then there was a noise of a stone
falling or a little bit of rolling earth, else all was
as still and silent as if there wasn't such a thing
as hearing. It was so still that the quietness
was horrible, and I began to talk out loud for
the sake of having something to hear; and then
I listened again, hoping to hear the sounds of
pick and spade, for I knew they would be trying
to dig us out, alive or dead.

"That'll be it," I says out aloud; " they'll
dig, and dig, and dig, till they gets to us; but
then they've got all the stuff to get up the shaft,
and shore up again as they goes, and I shall be
gone long before they gets to me!"

Then the horror of death came again, and I
leaped up and beat myself about till I was
drenched with blood and sweat, and then I lay
still again, with my heart throbbing and beating,
and, try what I would, I couldn't get enough
breath. I tried to reach the face of my poor
mate, and I found it still warm, and that the earth
had not settled over it. It was company to be
able to touch it so long as he was alive; but I
thought about what must come, and then
shivered as I felt that I should scrape the loose
gravel over it, and creep to the far end of the
narrow hole. And now I began, for the first
time, to think about home, and my two girls,
and their mother; and there was no comfort
there, for I began to wonder what was to
become of them when I was gone. Quietly as