Presently, he heard a door
open, and another man come in. A few words were exchanged, and,
this time, wine instead of water was poured down his throat. Then
he was partly lifted up, and felt a cooling sensation at the back
of his head. Some bandages were passed round it, and he was laid
down again. There was some more conversation, then a door opened
and two of the men went out; the third walked back to him,
muttering angrily to himself.
Charlie felt sure that he had been moved from the place in which he
had been the evening before. His bonds had been loosed, and he was
lying on straw, and not on the bare ground. Opening his eyelids the
slightest possible degree, he was confirmed in his belief, by
seeing that there was much more light than could have entered the
cellar. He dared not look farther, and, in a short time, fell into
a far more refreshing sleep than that he before had.
The next time he woke his brain was clearer, though there was still
a dull sense of pain where he had been struck. Without opening his
eyes, he listened attentively. There was some sound of movement in
the room, and, presently, he heard a faint regular breathing. This
continued for some time, and he then heard a sort of grunt.
"He is asleep," he said to himself, and, opening his eyes slightly
looked round.
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