296 
DETERMINATION NOT TO DIE. 
ness and perhaps an encouraging voice would 
have soothed. But the slow hour’s at length 
wore by, and the evening shadows gathered. I 
got cold enough now in my wet garments, and 
became so faint and weak that I would gladly 
have died. With a vague sort of pity for myself, 
I could not withhold a few tears ; but I soon 
fell into a state when beautiful visions which I 
vainly try to recall passed before my sight, while 
strains of grandest and sweetest music added 
soothing to the inexplicably pleasing images. 
Then I lost consciousness in snatches of fitful 
dozing, to awake long before the dawn. Now 
was the only mentally clear time of the twenty- 
four hours, and with the greatest effort I roused 
myself to light the stove and make some rice- 
water, the only food I had. What sustained me 
was the determination not to die. The thought 
of H.’s agony should he come in some day and 
find only what of me the rats had left, inspired 
me to struggle for life. I seemed to exist in a 
dual state : one side would have sought pity and 
sympathy, the other scorned and scouted and 
imperiously forbade any such weakness, or the 
luxury of giving in to it. 
At last my stove got empty. I could not go 
to the store to refill it, but I reached out for the 
