‘Here you see me,’ he said, ‘doomed to shiver in this pit, catching my death of rheumatism.’
‘You will surely soon get away,’ said Eve. ‘I am very sorry for you. I must go home, I may not stay.’
‘What! leave me now that you have appeared as a sunbeam, shining into this abyss to glorify it! Oh, no—stay a few minutes, and then I shall remain and dream of the time you were here. Look at my companions.’ He pointed to the roof, where curious lumps like compacted cobwebs hung down. ‘These are bats, asleep during the day. When night falls they will begin to stir and shake their wings, and scream, and fly out. Shall I have to sleep in this den, with the hideous creatures crying and flapping about my head?’
‘Oh, that will be dreadful! But surely you will leave this when night comes on?’
‘Yes, if you will help me to get away.’
‘I will furnish you with the key to the boathouse. I will hide it somewhere, and then your brother can find it.’
‘That will not satisfy me. You must bring the key here.’
‘Why? I cannot do that.’
‘Indeed you must; I cannot live without another glimpse of your sweet face. Peter was released by an angel. It shall be the same with Martin.’