Thoughts,
and feelings, and energies, to which he had before been a stranger, came
bounding through his mind, as the mighty river, which, having broken
away the feeble barrier man had set in its course, roars and thunders
down its before forsaken path. The powerful impulse of hope, stimulated
by this successful act, made him curse his supineness in calmly yielding
to the awful fate which awaited him. His best hours--his hours of
unimpaired strength--had now passed away; there was no fountain at which
he could renew it. But energy now burned within him, and, like an
invisible power, seemed to drive him on to some great act. The impulse
was irresistible; hopeless as his case had before appeared, he
determined to escape. But how? This question had not yet presented
itself. Escape from the jail!--from death!--himself,--more than himself,
his wife! Stone walls lost their appalling firmness, and were no more
than downy masses, which his breath could blow away.
Animated by this irresistible impulse, he took the shovel, and sounded
upon the walls; but they were everywhere firm and solid beneath his
blow.
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