"_Water has burst through the hole my prisoner has been making in that
wall_!..."
30. The next entry has been evidently water-soaked and is entirely
blotted out.
31. This entry seems sufficiently distinct to make out what the writer
has been through:
"I tried in the foregoing to jot down enough of what was happening
to enable anyone who would find our bodies to make out how we had
died.... What I forgot to record in the excitement I'll put down
now.... When the wall caved in and the water burst down upon us it
seemed that we would soon be drowned alive.... The small hole in the
wall had allowed enough water to filter through at first to slake
our thirst and make us all quite happy.... But gradually the ground
beneath us became damp and sticky and the blue mud clung to our shoes
like glue until we could hardly move.... The little air that crept
in with the water, though, was a positive blessing to us all.... We
should have stifled.... Finally the water ceased and our hearts began
to sink....
"... It was Maria who brought on the FLOOD I have learned today....
With a stone she found uncovered by the filtering from the little
opening she began pounding against the wall.... Suddenly the wall
bulged inward.... There was a swish, and a roar, and a deadening
GUSH,--and then a RUSHING FLOOD tore open the side of the wall and
burst like a torrent into our muddy, narrow cell. Higher and higher it
mounted, enveloping us to our arm pits.... My 'prisoner' moved calmly
over to the stately woman, who was holding up the boy, and patted her
gently on the head. 'It will be all right, darling,' he said.... Then
he kissed all his children and impulsively _dashed in the direction of
the cataract_.
"... Struggling hard against the flood he worked his way nearer
and nearer toward the broken curbing and finally DOVE through the
waterspout and clung grimly to the wall.... For a moment his body
seemed to tremble.... Then with a supreme effort he pulled his body
into the opening and for a moment checked the flood.... It seemed like
a gallant sacrifice.... at the same time.... the girl, Maria, waded
back toward the opening that was NOW completely SEALED BY THE STICKY
CLAY and began to tear frantically at the bank....
"Little by little she seemed to make headway.... But it appeared like
an eternity,--and I felt certain that the man in the wall using his
body as a plug must presently give up the ghost and be hurled back
into our cell.... I then noticed the water around us DROP quickly,
and, turning in the direction of Maria I saw her body being caught
up by the current and sucked painfully forward into the opening her
delicate hands had made.... It was too horrible to endure!... Now,
while there is no blood of martyrs in my veins, and while I had
PROMISED the sombre figure in Berlin TO DO A CERTAIN THING which a
martyr impulse might prevent if I tried to be a hero in this instance,
I simply could not look at that girl's struggles without going to her
rescue _no matter what it cost_...."