Part 82 (2/2)

”Nay, sir,” he said, ”I'll wait till we get out; I'm a tot'ler.”

Gwyn handed the silver cup to Joe, who tasted it.

”Eggs and milk,” he cried, and drank the contents with avidity before returning the cup.

”Now, Sam,” said Gwyn, refilling it.

”Ay, I don't mind that, sir,” said Hardock; ”and I was thinking I was a bit too particklar when it was sent to save our lives. Hah! That's good,” he added, as he drained the last drop. ”Sorry I can't wash it out for you, sir. Shall I go down to the water?”

”No, no, I don't mind drinking after you,” said Gwyn, as he tremblingly poured out his portion, which was less than the others had taken; and he, too, drank the most grateful draught he had ever had, while the dog, who had couched, placed his head on the lad's knee and looked up at him with all a dog's reverence and affection for his master.

But there was no note this time.

The flask was re-fastened to the dog's collar, and he was sent back; and then the prisoners lay listening to the rus.h.i.+ng and gurgling of the air and water, wondering how long it would take to reach them, for Hardock had been down to find that it had ascended the cavity for some distance; but he expressed his belief that it would be hours before it would hurt them, and the consequence was that, heartened by the prospect of escape, utterly exhausted mentally and bodily as they were, Nature came to their aid, and they all dropped off into a deep sleep.

Gwyn was the first to awaken many hours later, to find all in darkness, and fight alone through the strange feeling of confusion in which he was. But once more Grip came to his help; for no sooner had his master begun to move than he burst out barking loudly.

This woke the others, equally confused and startled at being in the darkness, while the noise of the wind roaring through the cavity sounded appalling.

Gwyn's first effort to light a match was a failure, but the second, within the shelter of a lanthorn, succeeded, and a fresh candle was finally lit.

By this they found that Grip was the bearer of another note, and in addition a packet, which upon being opened was found to contain a card and a pencil.

The note was very brief, stating tersely that efforts were being made to enlarge the way through which the dog had come up, and asking for information regarding their state.

This was furnished as well as the circ.u.mstances would allow, Joe holding the light, while, after placing the card on the smoothest place he could find, Gwyn wrote the answer--the princ.i.p.al point he emphasised being that they were safe so far; but the water was rising, and they had nearly come to the end of their candles.

But even as he wrote there was a cheering sound heard through the whistling of the wind--a sharp, clear clink as of hammer and chisel upon stone.

”Hark! do you hear?” cried Joe, wildly; ”they are coming down to us. Oh work, work hard, before the water rises.”

He shouted this in a wildly frantic way, and then watched eagerly while Gwyn tied the card in a handkerchief and secured it to the dog's collar, Grip going off directly, as if he quite understood the business now.

This done, Joe and Hardock lay down close to the orifice and listened to the clinking of the hammers, trying the while to imagine what kind of pa.s.sage existed beyond the wedge-like block of stone, and calculating how long it would be before they were rescued. But that was all imagination, too, for there was nothing to base their calculations upon.

Meanwhile Gwyn was more matter-of-fact; for he took the lanthorn and descended to where the water had risen, and there, clinging with one hand, he held the light down, to gaze with a feeling of awe at the bubbling surface, which was in a violent state of agitation, looking as if it were boiling. Every now and then it was heaved up and then fell back with a splash.

Gwyn's object in descending the sharp slope had been to make a mark upon the rock with his knife just at the level of the water, and then try and scratch other marks at about a foot apart, so as to descend again and see how much higher the water had risen.

But this seemed to be impossible, for the level was always changing, the water running up several feet at times and then descending, playing up and down evidently as the pressure of the confined air increased or sank.

Still he made some marks, and then returned to the others to join them in listening.

But this proved weary work, for it was only now and then that they could hear the sound of the hammer, for the current of air seemed to bear it away; while, when by chance the sounds did reach their ears they were most tantalising, at one time seeming very near, and at others so faint that they felt that the work going on must be very distant.

The dog came back with food and lights and stayed with them, now trotting to the opening to bark at the sounds; and at times standing at the edge of the lower cavity to bark fiercely at those from below, his ears and the thick wolf frill about his neck being blown about by the fierce current of air.

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