With this thought he kept perfectly still. The darker it grew, the more intently did he listen; for he was convinced that by this time they must have discovered his absence, and must be searching after him. The only thing that troubled him was the remembrance of his last words to Pat. He had told Pat that he was going down the stream, and they might make their first search after him in that direction, and this he did not think would bring them within hearing; for though he had no idea where he was, he still had every reason to believe that he was nowhere near the river. It now grew darker and darker; yet still to his strained ears there had not come a single sound to tell him that his friends were near; not a single cry, however faint, however remote, to make known to him that they were on the search after him. As the time passed away, the long, long suspense and the protracted disappointment began to fill him with the deepest gloom--and he began to know to its fullest extent that “agony of hope deferred that maketh the heart sick.” At length it grew so dark, that even his hope, tenacious as it was, could no longer shut out from his mind the conviction that whatever anxiety his friends might feel, it was simply impossible for them at this time to make any search whatever. If they had missed him, and had sought for him, they must have gone in a direction different from that in which he had gone, and must have been altogether out of hearing. As soon as he fully recognized this fact, all his energies gave way, and he sank down upon the ground. Not until this moment had he known how exhausted he was, and how oppressive the sultry atmosphere. Thus far his excitement, first to regain his lost path, and latterly to communicate with his friends or hear from them, had so taken possession of him, that heat or fatigue, or any other bodily sensation, was not noticed. Anxiety, eager effort, pertinacious hope,--all these had by turns influenced him; but now, as there seemed no further chance either for action or for expectation, his strength collapsed, and he gave way utterly. He lay upon the ground, his head resting upon some moss, and yielded himself up both in mind and in body to the misery of his situation. The severe exertions that he had made had utterly exhausted him; the conflict of soul that he had endured, had intensified that exhaustion; and for a long time he remained motionless, gasping for breath, and in a state of utter despair. Now, the night came down--sultry, torrid, oppressive, suffocating. Its intense blackness covered everything in an impenetrable veil. Its effect upon the others has already been described, and upon Phil it produced results more fearful still. Had it not been for that unusual oppressiveness and that Egyptian darkness, he might have roused himself; but as it was, he gave up utterly, and remained sunk in the profoundest despair for hours.