until his mind lost its hold of them, and

they again slid away into the bank and the grave.

Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics

“Buried how long?”

“Almost eighteen years.”

“You had abandoned all hope of being dug out?”

“Long ago.”

The words were still in his hearing as just spokendistinctly in

his hearing as ever spoken words had been in his lifewhen the

weary passenger started to the consciousness of daylight, and

found that the shadows of the night were gone.

He lowered the window, and looked out at the rising sun. There

was a ridge of ploughed land, with a plough upon it where it had

been left last night when the horses were unyoked; beyond, a quiet

coppice-wood, in which many leaves of burning red and golden

yellow still remained upon the trees. Though the earth was cold

and wet, the sky was clear, and the sun rose bright, placid, and

beautiful.

“Eighteen years!” said the passenger, looking at the sun.

“Gracious Creator of day! To be buried alive for eighteen years!”

Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics

Chapter IV

THE PREPARATION

W

hen the mail got successfully to Dover, in the course of