And, again looking up, I fancied that I could see, some twenty or thirty feet to the right, that the darkness again became suddenly dense and impenetrable.
"That must be a wall," I muttered, straining my eyes toward it.
"What's that?" asked Harry sharply.
Obedient to my instructions, the lad had lain perfectly motionless and silent for over an hour, for it must have taken me at least that long to gnaw through the cords.
"I said that must be a wall. Look, Harry, about thirty feet to the right. Doesn't it appear to you that way?"
"By Jove," he exclaimed after a moment of silence, "it's getting light! Look!"
I explained that, instead of "it's getting light," his eyes were merely becoming accustomed to the darkness.
"But what do you think of that? Is it a wall?"
After a moment's silence he answered: "Ye-es," and then more positively: "Yes. But what good does that do us?"
"That's what I am about to tell you. Listen! I've cut the cords on my wrists, and I'm going to get my knife—"