“I had such a nice dream, Tom,” he said. “I thought I was a-lyin’ in the little bed, at home, in the early mornin’; an’ it was summer, an’ I could hear the birds a-singin’ in the poplar tree outside; an’ then Mommie she come up by the bed an’ kissed me; an’ then I thought, all of a sudden, I could see. O Tom, it was lovely! I could see Mommie a-stannin’ there, an’ I could see the sunlight a-comin’ in at the window, an’ a-shinin’ on the floor; an’ I jumped up an’ looked out, an’ it was all just like—just like heaven.”
There was a pause, and then Bennie added, “Tom, do you s’pose if I should die now an’ go to heaven, I could see up there?”
“I guess so,” answered Tom; “but you aint goin’ to die; we’re goin’ to get out—both of us.”
But Bennie was still thinking of the heavenly vision.
“Then I wouldn’t care, Tom; I’d just as lieve die—if only Mommie could be with me.”
Again Tom spoke, in earnest, cheerful tones, of the probability of rescue; and discussed the subject long, and stimulated his own heart, as well as Bennie’s, with renewed hope.
By-and-by the imperious demands of hunger compelled a resort to the remnant of food. Tom explained that Jack had gone away, to be by himself a while, and wanted them to eat what there was in the basket. Bennie did not question the statement. So the last of the food was eaten.
After this there was a long period of quiet waiting, and listening for sounds of rescue, and, finally, both boys lay down again and slept.
Hours passed by with no sound save the labored breathing of the sleepers. Then Tom awoke, with a prickling sensation over his entire body, and a strange heaviness of the head and weakness of the limbs; but Bennie slept on.
“He might as well sleep,” said Tom, to himself, “it’ll make the time shorter for him.”