`` The tide will turn early this afternoon , and you are given to day-dreaming . '' `` I 'll be careful , '' he promised laughingly , and he meant to be careful . But somehow when he reached the cave its unwholesome charm overcame him , and he sat down on the boulder at its mouth . `` An hour yet before tide time , '' he said . `` Just enough time to read that article on impressionists in my review and then stroll home by the sandshore . '' From reading he passed to day-dreaming , and day-dreaming drifted into sleep , with his head pillowed on the rocky walls of the cave . How long he had slept he did not know , but he woke with a start of horror . He sprang to his feet , realizing his position instantly . The tide was in -- far in past the headlands already . Above and beyond him towered the pitiless unscalable rocks . There was no way of escape . Reeves was no coward , but life was sweet to him , and to die like that -- like a drowned rat in a hole -- to be able to do nothing but wait for that swift and sure oncoming death ! He reeled against the damp rock wall , and for a moment sea and sky and prisoning headlands and white-lined tide whirled before his eyes . Then his head grew clearer . He tried to think . How long had he ? Not more than twenty minutes at the outside . Well , death was sure and he would meet it bravely . But to wait -- to wait helplessly ! He should go ; mad with the horror of it before those endless minutes would have passed !
He took something from his pocket and bent his , head over it , pressing his lips XXXXX it repeatedly .
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