P3 Sketcn
By Carl Sandburg
The shadows of the ships
Rock on the crest
In the low blue lustre
Of the tardy and the soft in rolling tide.
A long brown bar at the dip of the sky
Puts an arm of sand in the span of salt.
The lucid and endless wrinkles
Draw in, lapse and withdraw.
Wavelets crumble and white spent bubbles
Wash on the floor of the beach
Rocking on the crest
In the low blue lustre
Are the shadows of the ships,

Isaw clearly the doom which had been prepared for me, and congratulated myself upon the timely accident by which ! had escaped. another step before my fall, and the world had seen me no more and the death just avoided was of that very character which i had regarded as fabulous and frivolous in the tales respecting the inquisition. to the victims of its tyranny, there was the choice of death with its direst physical agonies, or death with its most hideous moral horrors. i had been reserved for the latter. by long suffering my nerves had been unstrung, until i trembled at the sound of my own voice, and had become in every respect a fitting subject for the species of torture which awaited me. which torture does the passage above reference? a. being eaten alive by rats b. being sliced open by a giant blade c. being killed by falling into a hole d. being burned alive