"What nonsense!" cried Gwyn, laughing. "Don't you be scared by trifles,
Joe. There's nothing wrong, is there, Grip?"
The dog threw up his head, gazed pleadingly at his master, and then made
for the farther opening.
"No, no, not that way," cried Joe.
"Yes, sir, we'll try that way please; it works round by the wet drive,
and the big pillared hall, as you called it."
"But look here, Sam, are you serious?" said Joe; "or are you making this
fuss to frighten us?"
"You never knowed me try to do such a thing as that, sir," said the man,
sternly. "P'raps I'm wrong, and I hope I am; but all the same I should
be glad for us to get to the foot of the shaft again."
"Why not go to where the men are at work?" suggested Gwyn; "they'd
know."
"We shall take them in our way, sir; and we won't lose any time please."
"I should like to light up the place once more before we go."
"No, no, sir. You can do that when you come again."
"Very well," said Gwyn, who did not feel in the least alarmed, but who
could see the great drops standing on the mining captain's face. "Lead
on, then. Where's Grip?"
The dog was gone.
"Here! Hi! Grip! Grip!" cried Gwyn.
There was a faint bark from a distance, and Gwyn called again, but there
was no further response.
"He knows it's wrong, sir," said Hardock, solemnly, "so let's hurry
after him."
"Go on, then," said Joe; and Gwyn reluctantly followed them through the
grotto, and then along a natural crack in the rock, which was painful
for walking, being all on a slope. But this soon came to an end, and
they found themselves in another grotto, but with a low-arched roof and
wanting in the crystallisations of the first.
"You have been all along here, Sam?" said Gwyn, suddenly.
For answer Hardock took a few steps forward, and held up his lanthorn to
display a roughly-brushed white arrow on the wall pointing forward.
"You can always tell where we've been now, sir," said the man. "This
bends in and out for nearly a quarter of a mile; now it's caverns, now
it's cracks, and then we come again upon old workings which lead off by
what I call one of the mine endings. After that we get to the big hall,
and that low wet gallery; I know my way right through now."
"But it's all a scare," said Gwyn, banteringly.
"I hope so, sir, but I feel unked like, and as if something's very
wrong."
"Think of old Grip playing the sneak," said Joe, as they finally cleared
the grotto-like cracks, and came upon flooring better for walking.
"Nay, sir, he's no sneak. He's only gone to see what's the matter."
"Without a light?" cried Gwyn.
"He wants no light, sir. His eyes are not like ours. Would you mind
walking a little faster?"
"No; lead on, and we'll keep up. But how long will it take us to get to
the foot of the shaft?"
"Two hours, sir."
"So long as that?"
"Every minute of it, sir--if we get there at all," said the man to
himself. And now they walked on at a good steady rate, only pausing
once to trim their lights, and at last came to a turn familiar to both
the lads, for it was the beginning of the passage where they had had the
scare from having to pass through water, but at the end farthest from
that which they had come by in the early part of the day.
"Won't go through here, Sam?" said Gwyn.
"Much the nighest, sir; but we don't want to be soaked. Would you mind
going a little way down here?"
"Not I," said Gwyn; and the man led on, Joe following without a word.
"Don't look like that, Jolly," whispered Gwyn. "I suppose everyone gets
scared at some time in a place like this. It's Sam's turn now. Hallo!"
"Can't go any farther, sir," said Hardock, huskily. "The water's right
up to here, and farther on it must reach the roof."
Gwyn needed no telling, for the reflection of their lights was glancing
from the floor, and he knew perfectly well that no water ought to be
there.
A chill ran through him--a sensation such as he would have experienced
had he suddenly plunged neck deep in the icy water, and he turned a look
full of agony at Joe, who caught at his arm.
"The sea has broken in--the sea has broken in!" he cried; and quick as
lightning Gwyn bent down, scooped up some of the black-looking water,
and held it to his lips.
It was unmistakably brackish.
"It can't have broke in, my lads--it can't," cried Hardock. "Come on,
and let's go round by the pillar place and get to the men as quick as we
can. There must be some spring burst out; but they'll set the pumps at
work as soon as they know, and soon pull it down again. Come on."
With their hearts beating heavily from excitement, the two lads followed
the captain as he hurried back along the gallery to the spot where they
had turned down; and then, as fast as they could go, they made for the
pillared hall, expecting to find some of the men close by; but when they
reached it, there being no sign of water, there was not a soul visible.
There was proof, though, that it was not long since there were men
there, for the ends of two candles were still burning where they had
been stuck against the wall; tools were lying here and there, and a
couple of half-filled skeps were standing on the low four-wheeled trucks
waiting to be run along the little tramway to the shaft.
No one said so, but each saw for certain that there must have been a
sudden alarm, and the men had fled.
"Come on," said Hardock, hoarsely; but his heart was sinking, and Gwyn
knew that there was a gradual descent toward the bottom of the shaft.
But they walked rapidly on for fully half-an-hour before they came to
the first trace of water, and it was startling when they did.
The gallery they were in entered the next--a lower one--at right-angles;
and as they reached that end dry-footed, their lights gleamed from the
face of running water which was gliding rapidly by in a regular stream
of a few inches deep.
It was Joe who stooped quickly down now to scoop up some of the water
and taste it, which he did in silence.
"Salt?" cried Gwyn, sharply.
There was no reply, and the lad followed his companion's example and
tasted the water.
"Salt, sir?" said Hardock.
"As the sea," said Gwyn, with a groan. "Hah! good dog then. Here,
here, here! Grip, Grip, Grip!"
For there had been a faint barking in the distance, but the noise
ceased.
"Can we go round any way?" said Gwyn.
"No, sir; we must face it," said Hardock; "and as quick as we can, for
it gets lower and lower, and the water sets this way fast, so it must be
rising. Ready, sir?"
"Yes."
"Then come on."
Hardock stepped down into the rapid stream, which was ankle-deep, the
others followed, and they splashed rapidly along, to hear the barking
again directly; and soon after Grip, who must have been swimming, came
bounding and splashing along, barking joyously to meet them again, and
barking more loudly as he found that his master was making for the way
from which he had come.
"Can't help it, old fellow. When it gets too bad for you, I must carry
you," muttered Gwyn, as they hurried along; their progress gradually
becoming more painful, for the water soon became knee-deep, and the
stream harder to stem.
But they toiled on till it was up to their waists, and so swift that it
began to threaten to sweep them away; so, after a few minutes'
progression in this way, with the water growing yet deeper, Hardock
stopped at a corner round which the water came with a rush.
"It's downhill here, gen'lemen, all the way to the shaft, and even if we
could face it, the water must be five-foot deep in another ten minutes,
and round the next turn it'll be six, and beyond that the passage must
be full."
"Then we must swim to the foot of the shaft," said Gwyn, excitedly.
"A shoal of seals couldn't do it, sir," said the man, gruffly. "Come
back, sir!" he roared, for, as if to prove his words, the dog made a
sudden dash, freed himself from Gwyn's grasp, and plunged forward to
swim, but was swept back directly, and would have been borne right away
if Gwyn had not snatched at his thick coat as he passed, and held him.
"But we must make for the shaft," cried Joe, passionately.
"We can't sir! It's suicide! We couldn't swim, and just a bit farther
on, I tell you, the place must be full to the roof. Why, there must be
eight or ten foot o' water in the shaft."
"Then are we lost?" cried Joe.
"A fellow's never lost as long as he can make a fight for it," said
Gwyn, sharply. "Now, then, Sam, what's to be done--go back?"
"Yes, sir, fast as we can, and make for the highest part of the mine."
"Where is that?"
"The water will show us," said Hardock. "I pray it may only be a bit of
an underground pool burst to flood us; and they'll pump and master it
before it does us any harm."
"No, no," groaned Joe; "we've heard it beating overhead before, and the
sea has burst in. We're lost--we're lost!"
"Then if the sea has bursted in," cried Hardock, fiercely, "it's that
fellow Tom Dinass's doing. He's a spite against us all, and it's to
flood and ruin the mine."
"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 passages 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 rushing 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
Dinass, 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 fashion, 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 passages 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
rushing 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 rushing 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--"
He said no more, but leaned his arm against the side and rested his head
upon it.
"Oh, come, that won't do, Sam," cried Gwyn; "we must help one another."
"Yes, sir, of course; but wouldn't one of you two young gents like to
take the lead? You, Mr Joe Jollivet--you haven't had a turn, and
you've got two lights."
"What's the use of me trying to lead?" said Joe, bitterly, "I feel as
helpless as you do--just as if I could sit down and cry like a great
girl."
"Needn't do that, Jolly," said Gwyn, bitterly; "there's salt water
enough here. I'm sure it's three inches deeper than it was. Hark!"
They stood fast, listening to the strange murmuring noise that came
whispering along.
"It's the water running," said Joe, in awestricken tones.
"Yes, it's the water dripping, and running along by the walls. Why,
there must be hundreds of streams."
"And you're standing talking like that," cried Joe, angrily. "We know
all about the streams. Do something."
Gwyn stood frowning for a few moments.
"You lead on now," he said, "and try again. I'll come close behind
you."
"But it gets deeper this way."
"Perhaps only for a short distance, and then it may rise. Go on."
Joe started at once, for he felt, as if he must obey, but before they
had gone a hundred yards the water had risen to Gwyn's waist.
"Back again," he said; "it gets deeper and deeper."
"Then it's all over with us, gen'lemen," said Hardock. "Tom Dinass has
got his revenge against us, and it's time to begin saying our prayers."
"Time to begin saying our prayers!" cried Gwyn, angrily. "I've been
saying mine ever since we knew the worst. It's time we began to work,
and try our best to save our lives. Now, Joe, on again the other way,
and take the first turning off to the left."
Joe obeyed, and they struggled back amidst the whispering and gurgling
sounds which came from out of the darkness, before and behind; while
now, to fully prove what was wrong, they noticed the peculiar odour of
the sea-water when impregnated with seaweed in a state of decay, and
directly after Gwyn had called attention to the fact Joe uttered a cry.
"What is it?" said Gwyn anxiously. "Don't drown the lights."
"Something--an eel, I think--clinging round my leg."
"Eel wouldn't cling round your leg; he'd hold on by his teeth. See what
it is."
"Long strands of bladder-wrack," said Joe, after cautiously raising one
leg from the water.
"No mistake about the sea bursting in," said Gwyn. "Why, of course, it
has done so before. Don't you remember finding sand and sea-shells in
some of the passages?"
No one spoke; and finding that the efforts he had, at no little cost to
himself, made to divert his companions' attention from their terrible
danger were vain, he too remained nearly always silent, listening
shudderingly to the wash, wash of the water as they tramped through it,
and he thought of the time coming when it would rise higher and higher
still.
Gwyn could think no more in that way, for the horror that attacked him
at the thought that it meant they must all soon die. Once the idea came
to him that he was watching his companions struggling vainly in the
black water; but, making a desperate effort, he forced himself to think
only of the task they had in hand, and just then he shouted to Joe to
turn off to the left, for another opening appeared, and the lad was
going past it with his head bent down.
Joe turned off mechanically, his long, lank figure looking strange in
the extreme; and as he swung the lanthorns in each hand, grotesque
shadows of his tall body were thrown on the wall on either side, and
sometimes over the gleaming water which rushed by them, swift in places
as a mill-race.
And still the water grew deeper, and no more arrows pointed faintly from
the wall. The water was more than waist-deep now, and the chill feeling
of despair was growing rapidly upon all. The lads did not speak, though
they felt their position keenly enough, but Hardock uttered a groan from
time to time, and at last stopped short.
"Don't do that," cried Gwyn, flashing into anger for a moment; but the
man's piteous reply disarmed him, and he felt as despairing.
"Must, sir--I must," groaned the man; "I can't do any more. You've been
very kind to me, Master Gwyn, and I'd like to shake hands with you
first, and say good-bye. There--there's nothing for it but to give up,
and let the water carry you away, as it keeps trying to do. We've done
all that man can do; there's no hope of getting out of the mine, so
let's get out of our misery at once."