“There must be ten or fifteen feet of earth above it.  We are under the courtyard here.”

Sabina’s slight shoulders shuddered a little, for the first time, as she realized that she was perhaps buried alive, far beyond the possibility of being heard by any human being.

“The water must have risen very soon after we came down,” Malipieri said thoughtfully.  “That is why my man could not get to us.  He could not get into the well.”

“At all events he is not here,” Sabina answered, “so it makes no difference where he is.”

“He will try to help us from without.  That is what I am thinking of.  The first thing to be done is to put out that lamp, for we must not waste light.  I had forgotten that.”

Sabina had not thought of it either, and she waited while he went down again and brought the lamp up.  He extinguished it at once and set it down.

“Only three ways are possible,” he said, “and two are out of the question.  We cannot get up the old shaft above the well.  It is of no use to think of that.  We cannot get down the overflow and out by the drains because the water is pouring down there, and besides, the Tiber must have risen with the rain.”

“Which is the third way?”

“To break an opening through the wall in the highest part of the passage.  It may take a long time, for I have no idea how thick the wall may be, and the passage is narrow.  But we must try it, and perhaps Masin will go to work nearly at the same spot, for he knows as much about this place as I do, and we have often talked about it.  I have some tools down here.  Will you come?  We must not waste time.”

“I can hold the lantern,” said Sabina.  “That may be of some use.”

Malipieri gave her the lantern and took up the crowbar and pickaxe which lay near the hole in the vault.

“You will wet your feet, I am afraid,” he said, as they went up the passage, and he was obliged to speak in a louder tone to be heard above the steady roar of the water.

He had marked the spot where he had expected that a breach would have to be made to admit visitors conveniently, and he had no trouble in finding it.  He set the stones he had taken off the boards in a proper position, laid one of the wet boards upon them, and then took off his coat and folded it for a cushion, more or less dry.  He made Sabina sit down with the lantern, though she protested.

“I cannot work with my coat on,” he answered, “so you may as well sit on it.”

He set to work, and said no more.  The first thing to be done was to sound the thickness of the wall, if possible, by making a small hole through the bricks.  If this could be done, and if Masin was on the other side, a communication could be established.  He knew well enough that even with help from without, many hours might be necessary in order to make a way big enough for Sabina to get out; it was most important to make an opening through which food could be passed in for her.  He had to begin by using his pick-axe because the passage was so narrow that he could not get his crowbar across it, much less use it with any effect.  It was very slow work at first, but he did it systematically and with steady energy.