Part 77 (1/2)

”Don't be unreasonable, Sam,” began Gwyn, but he stopped short, for, like a flash, came the recollection of their seeing the man go down towards the point at low-water, where they had heard him hammering in the dark. Did that mean anything? Was it a preparation for blowing in the rock over one of the pa.s.sages that ran beneath the sea?

It seemed to be impossible as he thought it, but there was the fact of the flood rising and driving them onward, the waters pressing behind them as they waded on, but getting shallower very slowly, till, by degrees, they were wading knee-deep and after a time Grip could be set down. But that the waters were rising fast they had ample proof, for whenever they stopped, the stream was rus.h.i.+ng by them onward, as if hastening to fill up every gallery in the mine.

”The water will show us the highest part,” Hardock had said; and they went on and on deeper and farther into the recesses of the place, but with the swift stream seeming to chase them, refusing to be left behind, but ever writhing about and leaping at their legs as if to drag them down.

Grip splashed along beside or in front, whenever they were in a shallow enough part, and swam when he could not find bottom; but at last he began to show signs of weariness by getting close up to his master, and whining.

”Catch hold of my lanthorn, Joe,” cried Gwyn.

”What are you going to do?”

”What I should do for you if you felt that you could go no farther; what you would do for me. We've brought him down here to be safe from Tom Dina.s.s, and thrown him into the danger we wanted to avoid. Here, come on, Grip, old chap.”

To the surprise of his companions, Gwyn knelt down in the water, turning his back to the dog and bending as low as he could, when the intelligent beast, perhaps from memories of old games they had had together, swam close up and began to scramble up on his master's shoulders.

Then Gwyn caught at the dog's fore-legs, dragged them over, and rose to his feet, carrying the dog pick-a-pack fas.h.i.+on, Grip settling down quietly enough and straining his muzzle over as far as he could reach.

Hardock said nothing, but tramped on again, taking the lead with one lanthorn, Joe bringing up the rear with the others, having one in each hand, while the light was reflected brightly from the surface of the water.

At first the mining captain seemed to be working with a purpose in view; but, after being compelled to turn back times out of number through finding the water deepening in the different pa.s.sages he followed, he grew bewildered, and at last came to a standstill knee-deep in a part that was wider than ordinary.

”I think this part will do,” he said, looking helplessly from one to the other.

”Not for long, Sam.”

”Yes, sir,” said the captain, feebly; ”the water isn't rising here.”

”It must be pouring into the mine like a cataract. Look how it's rus.h.i.+ng along here, and I can feel it creeping slowly up my legs.”

”Yes, sir, I'm afraid you are right. I've been thinking for some time that we couldn't do any more.”

”Whereabouts are we now?”

”I'm not quite sure, sir; but if we go on a bit farther you'll find one of my arrows on the wall.”

”Come on, then,” cried Gwyn, ”you lead again with the light. No, Grip, old chap, I can carry you,”--for the dog had made a bit of a struggle to get down. He subsided, though, directly, nestling his muzzle close to his master's cheek, and they went on, splash, splash, through the water till they reached one of the turnings.

”Don't seem to be any arrow here, sir,” said Hardock, holding up his light. ”Can't have been washed out, because the water hasn't been high enough.”

”But you said you had put an arrow at every turn,” cried Gwyn.

”Every turning I come to, sir; but I'm sure now; I was in a bit of a doubt before--I haven't been along here. It's all fresh.”

”Turn back then,” said Gwyn.

”But the water's running this way, sir, and it must be shallower farther on.”

”How do we know that?” cried Gwyn; ”this stream may be rus.h.i.+ng on to fill deeper places.” And as if to prove the truth of his theory, the water ran gurgling, swirling, and eddying about their legs, but evidently rising.

”Yes, sir, how do we know that?” said the man, who was rapidly growing more dazed and helpless. ”I don't kinder feel to know what's best to be done with the water coming on like that. No pumping would ever get the better of this, and--and--”