Finding Cynthia stubborn, I went back and lay down again. Some drops of rain had begun to fall, and I got as far back under the shelter of the overhanging rock as I could. Here I was dry, as were the Bo's'n and the Smith. We lay near the western end, that the east wind might not drive the rain under our roof.
I lay awake a long time listening to the storm. The wind had grown much higher, and was soughing and moaning round our eyrie. I had terrible impulses at times. I thought, what if I should crawl near the edge of the rock and throw myself off, and so end all this misery and anxiety! It seemed almost more than I could bear. No one would know but that I had fallen off in my sleep, and then this terrible question of how we were to get home to Belleville, or to any civilized land, would be set at rest forever for me. The desire was so strong at times to end my life in this way, that once I arose and walked halfway to the edge of the cliff. But suddenly I awoke to the horror of what I intended doing. I thought of the cowardice of leaving Cynthia to face the difficulties and dangers alone, and, with a flash of lightning to aid me, I ran back through the darkness to my shelter, and lay down and clutched at the rough projections of the wall and held to them with frantic grip, as if some being stronger than I were trying to drag me away. Thank God, my will vanquished those evil thoughts, and, after giving thanks for my rescue, soul and body, I succumbed, exhausted with the battle which the two combatants had waged within me, and was asleep before I knew it.
The rain poured down, the wind howled, but I slept on. I heard the faint rumblings of the "bruit du gouffre" through my dreams; then, all at once, it grew louder, there was a stupendous crash, and I sat up, the terrible sound still splitting my ears. Gradually, with a rattle and a rumble, it died away. I felt a clutch upon my arm.
"For God's sake, what was that?" said the Bo's'n. His hand was trembling, his voice shook with terror. I found myself staring out under the edge of our roof, trying to see something in the darkness. I stood up. I groped about.
"Better keep quiet till we have some light," said the Bo's'n.
I struck my flint, but the flash only showed me the Bo's'n's frightened, drawn face, and made the night blacker than ever. We heard constant rumblings and crashes all around us, but we waited for a few moments, and then during a lull heard Cynthia's voice. I made a light again, and, holding to the rock, I crawled nearer to the place where she and Lacelle were.
"Don't move!" I shouted. "Stay in your cave until we have some light."
"What was that, Mr. Jones?" she called. Her voice trembled.
"I can't tell now," said I. "Try to sleep, and as soon as it is light I will come to you."
"Very well," called back Cynthia, with as confident a tone as if she had been speaking down the stairs of her own house at home. Whether she felt concerned or not she did not show it, and I felt that, whatever happened to us, she would put forth a brave front to the world, whatever world it might be with which she should come in contact.