"Unless some one has an intuition regarding
the path to liberty."
"Please let me pick the route," murmured Edith. "I am stretching out my
arm, Mr. Holman; will you come here to me and feel the direction I am
pointing in?"
We clustered round the girl, each one feeling her outstretched arm and
then turning quickly toward the point indicated. I was glad that no one
could see my own face at that moment. It was pathetic to think of any
one choosing a route in that abyss of horror, and the trouble which the
girl took to make sure that Holman would move off in the direction she
pointed brought tears to my eyes.
"I--I might be silly in thinking it," she stammered, "but I believe--oh,
please, Mr. Holman, try and walk in the direction I pointed in!"
"I certainly will try," said the youngster. "If I go wrong, you put me
right, will you? I believe somehow that we're going to find a way out. I
don't know the right path to it, but I've got a premonition we'll find
it. Now we're off again."
We moved forward with anxious footsteps. Imagination furrowed the floor
of that place with bottomless crevices, and the cold hand of fear
gripped our hearts.
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