This impulsive action of hers was as though she were deeply indebted to
me. I stood motionless in wonderment.
But only for an instant. She left my side for a moment, and from the
sound that escaped her lips appeared to be struggling to open some means
of egress from the place.
"Remain where you are," she said, "and I will return to you in a moment.
The way out is rather difficult, and I shall be compelled to assist
you." Her voice sounded above me, as though she had somehow climbed to
the roof of the place.
I heard the drawing of a bolt and the clang of iron; then she climbed
down again to where I anxiously awaited her. The river flood had risen
alarmingly, and was still entering rapidly.
"Come, let me guide you," she said, taking my arm and leading me to the
wall. "Lift your foot, so!" and taking my foot, she placed it in a kind
of narrow step in the rough stone wall, at the same time placing my hand
upon a piece of iron that seemed to be a large nail driven into the
masonry. "Now climb very carefully," she went on.
Without hesitation, I raised myself from the ground slowly, and with
infinite care commenced to scale the wall, while she remained below,
wading almost up to her waist in water.
"Take care that you don't strike your head," she cried warningly.
"Above you is a small hole just large enough for you to get through. Be
very careful, and take your time."
The one hand at liberty I stretched above my head, and found, as she
described, a square hole in the roof of the place, and, grasping the
stone, I eventually managed to escape through it, finding myself at last
standing upon a boarded floor.
A few moments later she was again at my side, and by the clang of iron I
knew that the aperture of that fatal place was closed again.