Had they known of the coup which, even then, the crafty Nordhu was preparing against them, they would have lost little time in making their way out of the gorge. As it was, they took their ease, resting at intervals during their journey. Their future movements they had not decided upon, their time being fully taken up with the exchange of their experiences.
The loss of the Seal seemed to the professor an overwhelming blow.
“We are lost indeed without the vessel,” he remarked gloomily.
“I guess if there’s a road out of these infernal regions, we shouldn’t ha’ struck it with the Seal,” was Haverly’s sharp answer; “but that ain’t the trouble at present. You say you’ve seen nothin’ of Garth?”
“Not a sign,” was the reply.
“Wal, that’s a licker! Say, Seymour, what do you make of it?”
“He’s either been murdered by the savages or else he has escaped,” answered the baronet.
“Put your money on the last of them two; I calculate they’d hardly be likely to knock him on the head, seeing as how all prisoners are reserved for spider-meat. Anyway, we’ll assume he’s got clear, though what he’ll do now the Seal’s gone, Heaven alone knows!”
“What of Wilson?” asked Mervyn suddenly.
“When we know his fate,” returned Seymour, “the mystery of the Seal’s disappearance will be a mystery no longer.”