Part 51 (1/2)

”Nay, sir, there's no need,” said Hardock; ”we keep on taking you in three s.h.i.+fts, and can go on for long enough.”

”Thank you, my lads, thank you,” said the Colonel; ”but I am better now.

Anxiety and fatigue were too much for me. I'm stronger, and can walk.”

”Nay, sir, you can better ride.”

”If I am overdone again I will ask you to carry me,” said the Colonel.

”I am not a wounded man, my lads; only at the heart,” he added bitterly to himself. ”How am I to face his mother if he is not found?”

They set him down, and he walked on slowly for a few hundred yards; but after that one of the men saw him display a disposition to rest, and in his rough way offered his arm.

”May help you a bit, sir, like a walking stick,” said the man, with a smile.

”Thank you, my lad. G.o.d bless you for your kindness,” said the Colonel as he took the man's arm; and they went on again for some time till far ahead there was the faint gleam of a light reflected from the wet granite rock, and the Colonel uttered a cry--

”Ah! Quick! quick! My poor boys! At last! at last!”

He hastened his steps, and the men exchanged glances and then looked at Hardock, expecting him to speak.

But Hardock felt choking, and remained silent as they went on, till, turning about an angle in the zigzagging gallery, they came suddenly upon a nearly burned-out candle stuck against the wall, and beneath it, plainly to be seen, one of the leaves of the Colonel's pocket-book.

It was some moments before the old officer spoke, for the finding of the light confused him.

”Why, what's this?” he said, in an agitated voice; ”you have taken some turning by mistake, and worked round to the way we came. Then very likely my poor boys have done the same, and found their way out by now.”

No one spoke.

”Don't you think so, my lads?”

Still no one answered; and now he began to grasp the truth.

”Why, what's this?” he cried angrily. ”Surely you men have not dared-- have not been such cowards--as to turn back! Halt!”

The last word was uttered in so commanding a tone of voice that the little party stopped as one man.

”Hardock! Explain yourself, sir. Did you dare to change the arrangements during my temporary indisposition?”

”Beg your pardon, sir, you were completely beat out, and we felt that we must carry you back to the shaft.”

”What insolence!” roared the Colonel. ”Right about face. Forward once more. But,” he added bitterly, ”if any man among you is too cowardly to help me, he can go back.”

He turned and strode off into the darkness, and Hardock followed just in time to catch him as he reeled and s.n.a.t.c.hed at the side of the gallery to save himself from falling.

”You can't do it, sir, you can't do it,” said Hardock, with his voice full of the rough sympathy he felt. ”We did it all for the best. We'd have carried you farther in, but it seemed like so much madness, and so we decided. Part's gone on with Harry Vores, and we're going to send in another s.h.i.+ft as soon as we get back.”

The Colonel looked at him despairingly, for he knew that the man's words were true, and that it would be impossible to go on.

”We did what we thought were right, sir,” continued Hardock; ”and it's quite likely that the young gents have got safely back by now.”