Shall I ever forget my feelings at this moment?
He was going--my friend, my companion, from whom I had a right to expect so much--he was going--he would abandon me--he was gone! He would leave me to perish miserably, to expire in the most horrible and loathesome of dungeons--and one word, one little syllable, would save me--yet that single syllable I could not utter! I felt, I am sure, more than ten thousand times the agonies of death itself.

My brain reeled, and I fell, deadly sick, against the end of the box.
As I fell the carving-knife was shaken out from the waist-band of my pantaloons, and dropped with a rattling sound to the floor.

Never did any strain of the richest melody come so sweetly to my ears! With the intensest anxiety I listened to ascertain the effect of the noise upon Augustus--for I knew that the person who called my name could be no one but himself.

All was silent for some moments.

At length I again heard the word "Arthur!" repeated in a low tone, and one full of hesitation.
Reviving hope loosened at once my powers of speech, and I now screamed at the top of my voice, "Augustus! oh, Augustus!" "Hush! for God's sake be silent!" he replied, in a voice trembling with agitation; "I will be with you immediately--as soon as I can make my way through the hold." For a long time I heard him moving among the lumber, and every moment seemed to me an age.