Then I was forced to rest; and, sitting down on the ground, saw that the glimmering streak of light had faded, and that the awful blackness of the previous night was creeping up again. And now I had no heart to face it, being cowed with hunger, thirst, and weariness; and so flung myself upon my face, that I might not see how dark it was, and groaned for very lowness of spirit.
1898, J. Meade Falkner, “In the Vault”, in Moonfleet, London, Toronto, Ont.: Jonathan Cape, published 1934, page 65