The Man Without a Shadow

tray until I awakened in bed early the next morning, were far more vivid than any I had any recollection of. They did not tell me who I was, to be sure, but they gave me two or three pictures so minutely outlined, that I am sure I shall recognize them if ever I can get the chance. The consolation of that thought, however, did not come to me till afterwards. When, with difficulty, I had roused myself from my heavy sleep and was able intelligently to take account of my present situation, it seemed a thousandfold more desperate than it had the day before. They had come into my room, once theyhad found me safe asleep, stripped me and put me to bed. This morning my clothes were gone. That fact alone was enough to make the hope of escape absolutely insane. The plot was clear enough. They would keep me here in solitary confinement, persistently drugging my food, until hunger compelled me to eat it; until I had established an appetite for the drug itself; until at last I should be utterly and hopelessly mad indeed. Well, I would fight off despair as long as I could. So much I solemnly promised myself. A dash of cold water out of the ewer, and a few deep breaths of the young June air which came in my partly opened window, revived me. Then, more to provide myself with an occupation than in any hope of gaining anything by it, I began a most minute examination of the room. Not a corner of it escaped me. A rickety little table stood in the dormer, a'nd I remarke...