The Argosy — page 94: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

84 How Lord Roland Met his Wife. to a root which jutted from the cavern wall behind him. Through the root the chain was passed, and secured by a long hook at its end, which was hitched into a link. But for one fatal obstacle, Roland could have loosed it with a touch; the root was several feet beyond his reach. He strained himself towards it; but with all his efforts he could not reach the hook by quite a yard. There was in this arrange- ment an ingenuity of torture which convinced him that it was designed. Could he break the root to which the chain was fastened? He exerted all his strength; he pulled, he struggled—harder—harder yet. In vain; the root, which was as thick as a man’s wrist, curved very slightly outwards, but gave no sign of breaking. Finding all efforts useless, he at length desisted, and once more set himself to think. Could he blow out the candle? It stood at least five yards from where he sat. He took a deep-drawn breath, and made the effort. The gust almost imperceptibly shook the flame, but nothing more. Could but a blast of ocean wind have swept into the cave, and quenched the fatal flame! Alas! the air within the cavern was as still, as motionless, as the air within a tomb. He raised his voice ; -he shouted, he made the cavern ring with echoes. But no cry came in answer to his own. In his heart he knew that none cou/d come. He ceased the vain endeavour, and once more set himself to think—to think with intensity, with desperation ; for now he felt, with indescribable horror, that if he sat there gazing at the flame in passiveness he should go raving mad. The sun by this time had gone down, and but for the candle-light the interior of the cavern would have been quite dark. The cave was about twenty yards in depth; its mouth was straight before him ; and he could see, as from the interior of a tunnel, a space of sky still flushed with fading hues, across which a gull was flying. The silence was profound. At times a drop of water from the cavern roof fell with a faint plash; from far off he could hear the whisper of the ripple on the shore. Its murmur in his ears was mingled with another sound—a sound low, dull, and throbbing. That was the fevered beat of his own blood. Hush ! what was that? A sound behind him. He turned quickly ; but the blank wall of the cave showed nothing, and the sound was not repeated. Could it have been fancy? It mzst have been so. Once more, as ina kind of dreadful fascination, he fixed his gaze upon the candle. Gradually, its flame increased before his eyes to thrice its proper size. It seemed a living thing—a fiery demon, implacable, relentless, awaiting the appointed hour of doom. Hush! The sound again behind him—a low, soft, fluttering sound. He turned, and almost laughed. The sound came from the basket at his back! He had forgotten Peepy. He raised the lid and took out the bird, which fluttered in his COnmicloooel —_— SS (CO