"And how much time do you give me to decide this matter?" I asked again.
"We might justly require you to decide on the instant," answered the priest, "but in pity to your soul, and because we hope that solitude and prayer may bring you to a better mind, we give you a week, in which to consider. This Sister will bring you food and water, but presume not to speak to her, or to make any noise, on pain of being removed to a worse place. Contemplate that cell—your living grave—think of what a life of usefulness and happiness may yet be yours—and we have good hope that you will return to a better mind."
He seemed to wait for me to speak, but I only bowed my head, and they presently withdrew, leaving me alone, to consider of the infamous propositions they had made me, in presence of that awful token of the fate that awaited me, should I refuse to comply. Then my strength gave way all at once. I sank on the damp ground in a kind of swoon, which I think passed into sleep.
I was waked at last by the sound of the chapel bell, calling the Sisters to early prayers, and found myself not wholly in darkness. There was a very small window, close to the ceiling of the deep vault, which admitted a ray of light. When my eyes grew more accustomed to the obscurity, I could see everything plainly. A heap of straw had been placed in one corner, and by it stood a coarse loaf and a pitcher of water. The rest of the vault was as I had last seen it, with some stone coffins, the occupants of which had long since mouldered into dust, some tattered remains of banners and winding-sheets, and one new leaden coffin, placed there not long since. I remembered that the Vernon family, or that branch of it to which our mother belonged, had a right of burial here. But by one of those niches in the wall, of which I have spoken, lay what had a grim significance, namely, a pile of bricks, some mortar, and building instruments.
A cold shudder ran through me at the sight. I fell on my knees, and with tears and sobs, besought to be saved from such a dreadful death, and to be restored to my husband. I also prayed for strength to suffer all that might come on me, without denying the truth; and I believe my prayer has been answered, for I now feel quite calm and strong. I have eaten and drank, and feel refreshed. I am determined not to yield, but to escape if possible. No Corbet did ever yet fear death, nor yet resign life without a struggle.
I have been making a close survey of my prison, and have found an inestimable treasure, namely, the remains of two great funeral torches, of black wax, overlooked and left, I suppose, at the time the leaden coffin was placed here. They are large and thick enough to give light for many hours. 'Tis a wonder the rats have not devoured them.
I have also cautiously tried the door of the vault, and find that it yields a little under my hands. Luckily (though that is hardly the word) I have both flint and steel in my pocket, in a Dutch tinder-box Master Jasper gave me. I have also a knife and scissors. 'Tis well they did not think to search me.
