We went on. We couldn't see half a dozen feet in front of us. The gloom beyond the dozen feet was Stygian and menacing. And the great grim shadows that crept behind us as we proceeded! Once the girl stumbled and fell against me.
"What's the matter?" I asked, startled.
"I stepped on something that—that moved!"—plaintively.
"Possibly it was a potato; there's a bin of them over there. Where the deuce are we?"
"If you swear, I shall certainly scream!" she warned.
"But I can swear in the most elegant and approved fashion."
"I am not inclined to have you demonstrate your talents."
"Aha! Here is the coal-bin. Perhaps the window may be open. If so, we are saved. Will you hold the candle for a moment?"
Have you ever witnessed a cat footing it across the snow? If you have, picture me imitating her. Cautiously I took one step, then another; and then that mountain of coal turned into a roaring tread-mill. Sssssh! Rrrrr! In a moment I was buried to the knees and nearly suffocated. I became angry. I would reach that window—
"Hush! Hush! The noise, the noise!" whispered the girl, waving the candle frantically.