Against the north wall
was the empty stone coffin of an abbot, in which every tourist with
a turn for grim humour was accustomed to stretch himself. In this
Clare carefully laid Tess. Having kissed her lips a second time he
breathed deeply, as if a greatly desired end were attained. Clare
then lay down on the ground alongside, when he immediately fell into
the deep dead slumber of exhaustion, and remained motionless as a
log. The spurt of mental excitement which had produced the effort
was now over.
Tess sat up in the coffin. The night, though dry and mild for the
season, was more than sufficiently cold to make it dangerous for him
to remain here long, in his half-clothed state. If he were left to
himself he would in all probability stay there till the morning, and
be chilled to certain death. She had heard of such deaths after
sleep-walking. But how could she dare to awaken him, and let him
know what he had been doing, when it would mortify him to discover
his folly in respect of her? Tess, however, stepping out of her
stone confine, shook him slightly, but was unable to arouse him
without being violent. It was indispensable to do something, for she
was beginning to shiver, the sheet being but a poor protection.
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