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A great crackling blast startled Kwell out of his hopeless attitude. He stood up onto his knees, his eyes wide with surprise and excitement. His heart thumped furiously against his ribs. A flash of light showed from outside like some strange fork of lightning. Then, muffled and what sounded like in the distance, came the frantic neighing and terrified screaming of the horses. Kwell could hear the dull sound of hoof-beats in the ground, getting fainter and fainter until they faded altogether.
But those sounds were forgotten in a moment as Kwell’s ears, listening so hard that they hurt, nearly leaped from the side of his head as he heard a splashing and a bubbling noise from the back of the prison where the water came in. He turned his head and looked. The water slackened a moment, as though stopped up with a cork and then came again full force, but something had come through with it.
Kwell scrambled as quickly as he could over to the wall. He looked hard, and in the dim light – what! It had to be his imagination – those two, large, very wide eyes looking up at him and a face white and pale in the water. He stretched out his hand to see, expecting to meet with nothing but cold water and stone. His fingers closed on the cloth of a collar and the thing beneath him was really of flesh and blood. He pulled up sharply, but it was hardly necessary, for as soon as his hand touched him, the figure moved and struggled up to his feet.
Kwell moved back quickly, and even on his knees he was surprised to find that he looked the strange person right in the eye. He was no taller than a small child.
“Wha- what?” he asked slowly, completely at a loss of words and thought. “What are you doing here?” he finally gasped out.
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