That night, Cincinnatus hears the scratching noises again. In his mind, he can imagine a savior tunneling toward him to free him from the prison. Using the chair, he knocks against the wall in the hope of communicating with the unknown entity “by means of rhythm” (139). The noises stop briefly, then resume. Cincinnatus is pleased, believing that he is in communication with this unknown digger. He thinks about tapping out a code, but it will be morning soon. By dawn, the noises have stopped. For the rest of the day, Cincinnatus is filled with hope.

The letter Cincinnatus wrote to Marthe remains unsent. In the letter, he has tried to convey the horrific reality of his predicament. He pleads with her to feel human empathy toward him, if only fleetingly. Cincinnatus is critical of his wife’s frequent infidelity, which has turned their marriage into a form of torture. By writing, he hopes to “purge” himself. Though he cannot put her betrayal into words, he is starting to feel that Marthe cannot be real. He implores her to visit again, by herself this time. He hands the letter to Rodion, asking whether there are any other prisoners and whether the executioner has arrived yet.