Sappers and Miners Part 52

Stretching out his trembling hands, he felt in the black darkness for the lanthorn, touched it after two or three ineffectual trials, and s.n.a.t.c.hed it back, feeling his fingers burnt, just as the light gave a final flare, the jar of his touch upon the lanthorn being sufficient to quench the tiny flame.

In the horror of the moment Gwyn uttered a loud cry, and the result was a quick movement close at hand, followed by a voice saying,--

"Yes, father, all right. I'll get up and fetch it. Is the pain so bad?"

Gwyn tried to speak, but no words came.

"Did you call, father?"

There was perfect silence in the stifling place, and Joe Jollivet spoke again, drowsily now.

"Must have dreamt it. But--hallo--Oh, my back! What ever's the matter with it, and--here! hallo! What does it all mean? I must have been walking in my sleep."

"Oh, Joe, Joe!" cried his companion.

"Ydoll! You there? I say--what--what--where are we?"

"Don't you understand?--where we lay down when we could get no farther."

There was the sound of some one drawing a long gasping breath, and then silence again, till Joe spoke in a piteous voice.

"I was dreaming that father was taken ill in the night, and he called me. Oh, Ydoll, old chap, my head feels so queer. Then we haven't found them? I don't feel as if I could recollect anything. It's all black like. We came down to find them, didn't we?"

"Yes," said Gwyn, "and walked till you stumbled and fell."

"I did? Yes, I recollect now. I was regularly beaten. We came such a long way for hours and hours. Then we've both been to sleep?"

"I suppose so."

"But why is it so dark?"

"The candle I set up burned out."

"Well, light another. You have some more."

"What am I to light one with?" groaned Gwyn.

"Oh! I'd forgotten," cried Joe, piteously, "you've no matches."

"No, I've no matches."

"But you had some, I know--you had a box; feel in your pockets again."

There was a faint rustling sound as in obedience to his companion's imperative words, Gwyn felt in each pocket vainly, and then uttered a sigh like a groan.

"No, no, no!" he cried, "there is a hole in my pocket, and the box must have gone through."

"Oh," cried Joe, angrily; "how could I be such a fool as to trust you to carry them?"

"You mean how could you be such a fool as to come without a box yourself," said Gwyn, bitterly.

"Yes, that's it, I suppose. Here, I know--we must strike a light from the rock with the backs of our knives."

"What for?" said Gwyn, bitterly. "Where are the tinder and matches?"

Joe uttered a sigh, and they both relapsed into silence once more.

"What are we to do?" said Joe, at last. "It is horrible, horrible to be in this black darkness. Say something, Ydoll--we can't lie down here and die."

"We can't go on in the black darkness," said Gwyn, bitterly.

"We must feel our way."

"And suppose we come to some hole and go down?"

Joe drew his breath sharply through his teeth as he winced at the horrible idea.

"Better lie down again and go to sleep," said Gwyn, despondently. "We can do no more."

"Lie down till they come with lights and find us?"

"Yes," said Gwyn, who gathered courage from these words of hope. "It's of no use to give up. Father must have found his way out by this time.

Sam Hardock knows so much about mines; he is sure not to be lost for long."

"But if they don't find us? I'm so faint and hungry now I don't know what to do."

"Yes, I suppose what I feel is being hungry," sighed Gwyn, "but we mustn't think about it. I say, how far do you think we wandered about yesterday?"

"Miles and miles and miles," said Joe, dismally; "and for nothing at all but to lose ourselves. But I say, Ydoll, it wasn't yesterday. We couldn't have slept long."

"I felt as if I slept all night."

"But we couldn't; because we only slept as long as our candle burned."

"Of course not. How stupid! But I'm so done up that my head doesn't seem as if it would go; let's lie down and go to sleep till they find us."

"And perhaps that will be never. Someone will find our bones, perhaps."

"Ha, ha!" cried Gwyn, bursting into a mocking laugh. "We're a nice pair of miserable cowards! I did think you had more pluck in you, Joe."

"That's what I thought about you, Ydoll."

"So did I," said Gwyn, frankly; "and all the time I'm as great a coward as you are. I say, though, doesn't it show a fellow up when he gets into trouble? Can't show me up in the dark, though, can it?"

"Oh, I don't know; I only know I feel horribly miserable. Let's go to sleep and forget it all."

"Sha'n't," shouted Gwyn, making an effort over himself. "I won't be such a jolly miserable coward, and you sha'n't neither. We'll do something."