Cheek or shoulder at every turn, was intolerable. But to stay where he was,

Мультиязыковой проект Ильи Франка www.franklang.ru

and endure this living death all night- was that better? No. What, then, was

there left to do? Ah, there was but one course; he knew it well — he must put

out his hand and find that thing!

It was easy to think this; but it was hard to brace himself up to try it. Three

Times he stretched his hand a little way out into the dark gingerly; and

Snatched it suddenly back, with a gasp — not because it had encountered

Anything, but because he had felt so sure it was just going to. But the fourth

Time he groped a little further, and his hand lightly swept against something

Soft and warm. This petrified him nearly with fright — his mind was in such a

State that he could imagine the thing to be nothing else than a corpse, newly

Dead and still warm. He thought he would rather die than touch it again. But

He thought this false thought because he did not know the immortal strength

Of human curiosity. In no long time his hand was tremblingly groping again

— against his judgment, and without his consent — but groping persistently

On, just the same. It encountered a bunch of long hair; he shuddered, but

Followed up the hair and found what seemed to be a warm rope; followed up