TIME'S FINGER 297 



sound which at first affrighted and then soothed, for it 

 could be nothing but the echo of the sea on the curving 

 beach below ; and in its comfort that lulled all ineffectual 

 clamour, and eventually to fretful but frightful sleep. 

 Always I awoke panting with thirst, stiff and strained, 

 and with unmanly cries of fear and pain on my lips, 

 while the chaste stars danced across the narrow slit as 

 I strove to stem the turbid stream of despondency. 



About midnight a singular peacefulness possessed 

 me, overcoming me in spite of myself. Feverish im- 

 patience and resistance seemed futile, and in my resig- 

 nation I began to realise that to avert cramp and 

 disablement from cold — for a chill, moist breeze from 

 the ravine played continuously on me — some sort of 

 exercise must be undertaken. 



My left foot was certainly not so compressed as the 

 right. Though it could not be raised, it was possible 

 to move it ever so slightly forwards and backwards. 

 Might it not be possible, by never-ceasing friction, to 

 so abrade the edges of the sole of the boot that it might 

 be reduced to such dimension as would permit it to be 

 raised ? 



With all the force of my mind concentrated on the 

 one idea, I began to work in a passion of patience. 

 At first the play of the boot was hardly to be registered ; 

 but hour after hour of ceaseless and calculated effort 

 not only counterbalanced mental tension and imparted 

 some degree of warmth to my body, but so amended 

 the shape of the boot that it began to move with some 

 degree of freedom. The more easy the fit, the more 

 cautious and calm I became. 



No insipid monotony pervaded the remote, cold crevice. 

 The operation was lubricated with hope. Once every 

 heart-beat — for I kept strict tally, as further mental 

 relaxation — my boot rubbed against the rock, and each 



