Was it possible he still lived?
He asked himself the question, for the belief that he was dead seemed to have fixed itself upon him.
Then came the impression that he was indeed dead, and that he was suffering the tortures of the damned.
But what had he done in life to merit such torment? He had ever tried to be honest and square, to treat all men justly, and to injure no one who let him alone. In life he had even fancied himself something of a Christian in his way.
And he had been condemned, like the vilest sinner, to eternal torment?
He would not believe a Supreme Being could do such a thing, and so, for all of the agony he was enduring, he began to think that he still lived.
Then he heard voices near at hand. At first the words were jumbled and unintelligible, but after a time he could make out some things which were said.
He breathed, but every breath caused him the most acute pains, the most indescribable torment.
It seemed that his windpipe was raw from one end to the other, and the air which he drew through it was liquid fire.
Then came the thought that he might be in deadly danger still and, although it cost him terrible torture, he remained in the same fixed position, making no move to ease his cramped limbs and aching body.