But with the touch came a further sensation that made me fling both arms around the box and begin frantically to haul it towards the shore.
It was a feeling of suffocation; of a weight that pressed in upon my ribs and choked the lungs' action.

I felt that I must open that box or die horribly; that until I had it upon the bank and had forced the lid up I should know no pause from the labour and torture of dying.
This put a wild strength into me.

As the box grated upon the few pebbles by the shore, I bent over it, caught it once more by the sides, and with infinite effort dragged it up out of the water.

It was heavy, and the weight upon my chest was heavier yet: but straining, panting, gasping, I hauled it up the bank, dropped it on the turf, and knelt over it, tugging furiously at the lid.
I was frenzied--no less.

My nails were torn until the blood gushed.
Lights danced before me; bells rang in my ears; the pressure on my lungs grew more intolerable with each moment; but still I fought with that lid.