avenues.

Having returned to the bottom of the stair, I perceived every part of
the long-drawn passage illuminated. I threw a glance forward to the
quarter whence the rays seemed to proceed, and beheld, at a considerable
distance, Welbeck in the cell which I had left, turning up the earth
with a spade.

After a pause of astonishment, the nature of the error which I had
committed rushed upon my apprehension. I now perceived that the darkness
had misled me to a different staircase from that which I had originally
descended. It was apparent that Welbeck intended me no evil, but had
really gone in search of the instrument which he had mentioned.

This discovery overwhelmed me with contrition and shame, though it freed
me from the terrors of imprisonment and accusation. To return to the
cell which I had left, and where Welbeck was employed in his disastrous
office, was the expedient which regard to my own safety unavoidably
suggested.

Welbeck paused, at my approach, and betrayed a momentary consternation
at the sight of my ensanguined visage. The blood, by some inexplicable
process of nature, perhaps by the counteracting influence of fear, had
quickly ceased to flow. Whether the cause of my evasion, and of my flux
of blood, was guessed, or whether his attention was withdrawn, by more
momentous objects, from my condition, he proceeded in his task in
silence.

A shallow bed and a slight covering of clay were provided for the
hapless Watson. Welbeck's movements were hurried and tremulous. His