The earth and stone were heaped dense to the very summit, and to what a depth above the mouth of the cave without it was impossible for her to conjecture.
To add to her terror and bewilderment, the fumes of the spirits became stronger and more pungent, stupefying her brain. The stones in falling had stove in some of the barrels, and their contents oozed forth.
Winefred's heart stood still for a moment as she realised the full meaning of her situation.
Then she staggered down the heap and retreated to the farthest recess of the cave, set the lantern before her, looked into the light, and for a moment became the prey of despair.
But Winefred was young, energetic, and brave. She studied the candle.
How long would that last? How long would it be before day broke?
But when daylight came, none would penetrate into this vault where she was interred alive. Yet, possibly there might be some rift, some eyelet-hole through which it might enter and reveal a way of escape.
What was the time?
She put her hand to her belt for the watch that had been given her. It was not there. She had not brought it with her.