Fathers and sons -- Fiction; People with disabilities -- Fiction; Princes -- Fiction; Refugees -- Fiction
For a few minutes the feelings which surged through him were so full of
strong excitement that they set his brain in a whirl. He knew what his
father would say--that would not do. If he was to think, he must hold
himself still and not let even joy overcome him. The key was in the
black little cellar, and he must find it in the dark. Even the woman who
liked him enough to give him a chance of freedom knew that she must not
open the door and let him out. There must be a delay. He would have to
find the key himself, and it would be sure to take time. The chances
were that they would be at a safe enough distance before he could get
out.
"I will kneel down and crawl on my hands and knees," he said.
"I will crawl back and forth and go over every inch of the floor with my
hands until I find it. If I go over every inch, I shall find it."
So he kneeled down and began to crawl, and the cat watched him and
purred.
"We shall get out, Puss-cat," he said to her. "I told you we should."
He crawled from the door to the wall at the side of the shelves, and
then he crawled back again. The key might be quite a small one, and it
was necessary that he should pass his hands over every inch, as he had
said. The difficulty was to be sure, in the darkness, that he did not
miss an inch. Sometimes he was not sure enough, and then he went over
the ground again. He crawled backward and forward, and he crawled
forward and backward. He crawled crosswise and lengthwise, he crawled
diagonally, and he crawled round and round. But he did not find the key.
If he had had only a little light, but he had none. He was so absorbed
in his search that he did not know he had been engaged in it for several
hours, and that it was the middle of the night. But at last he realized
that he must stop for a rest, because his knees were beginning to feel
bruised, and the skin of his hands was sore as a result of the rubbing
on the flags. The cat and her kittens had gone to sleep and awakened
again two or three times.
"But it is somewhere!" he said obstinately. "It is inside the cellar. I
heard something fall which was made of metal. That was the ringing sound
which awakened me."
When he stood up, he found his body ached and he was very tired. He
stretched himself and exercised his arms and legs.
"I wonder how long I have been crawling about," he thought. "But the key
is in the cellar. It is in the cellar."
He sat down near the cat and her family, and, laying his arm on the
shelf above her, rested his head on it. He began to think of another
experiment.
"I am so tired, I believe I shall go to sleep again. 'Thought which
Knows All' "--he was quoting something the hermit had said to Loristan
in their midnight talk--"Thought which Knows All! Show me this little
thing. Lead me to it when I awake."
And he did fall asleep, sound and fast.
* * * * *
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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