Seizing the
shovel, he advanced to the pit, when, to his unspeakable delight, he
perceived that the bottom of it was covered with black, dirty water. The
sight roused his dormant energies, and he saw before him years of life
and happiness. Leaping into the pit, he drank from the putrid pool,
using the palms of his hands for a drinking vessel.
Tearing off the top of his glazed cap, he succeeded in making a very
tolerable cup of it, with which he conveyed some of the precious liquid
to the parched lips of his sinking wife. The act roused her from the
absent mood to which she had abandoned herself. She took a long draught
of the discolored beverage, and, had it been the pure mountain spring,
its effect could scarcely have been more magical. It not only refreshed
the body, but inspired the mind. With this dawning hope the poor
prisoners built the flimsy fabric of future joy and safety.
Dalhousie had lived years in the hours of his confinement. Experience,
the stern mentor of humanity, had ministered to him, and imparted the
strength and resolution which often require years to mature.
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