uttered by the man, in too low a key to be overheard, the lady burst
into a passion of tears. He strove to comfort her by soothing tones and
tender appellations. "How can it be helped?" said he. "It is time to
resume your courage. Your duty to yourself and to me requires you to
subdue this unreasonable grief."

He spoke frequently in this strain, but all he said seemed to have
little influence in pacifying the lady. At length, however, her sobs
began to lessen in vehemence and frequency. He exhorted her to seek for
some repose. Apparently she prepared to comply, and conversation was,
for a few minutes, intermitted.

I could not but advert to the possibility that some occasion to examine
the closet, in which I was immured, might occur. I knew not in what
manner to demean myself if this should take place. I had no option at
present. By withdrawing myself from view I had lost the privilege of an
upright deportment. Yet the thought of spending the night in this spot
was not to be endured.

Gradually I began to view the project of bursting from the closet, and
trusting to the energy of truth and of an artless tale, with more
complacency. More than once my hand was placed upon the bolt, but
withdrawn by a sudden faltering of resolution. When one attempt failed,
I recurred once more to such reflections as were adapted to renew my
purpose.

I preconcerted the address which I should use. I resolved to be
perfectly explicit; to withhold no particular of my adventures from the
moment of my arrival. My description must necessarily suit some person
within their knowledge. All I should want was liberty to depart; but, if