"Ah! it's you, Catherine! you've broken your nose, and you want to join your man again. Well, well! we'll play out the game together."
He pretended not to see Étienne. The latter, overwhelmed by this encounter, made a gesture as though to protect the putter, who was pressing herself against him. He must, however, accept the situation. Speaking as though they had left each other good friends an hour before, he simply asked:
"Have you looked down below? We can't pass through the cuttings, then?"
Chaval still grinned.
"Ah, bosh! the cuttings! They've fallen in too; we are between two walls, a real mousetrap. But you can go back by the brow if you are a good diver."
The water, in fact, was rising; they could hear it rippling. Their retreat was already cut off. And he was right; it was a mousetrap, a gallery-end obstructed before and behind by considerable falls of earth. There was not one issue; all three were walled up.
"Then you'll stay?" Chaval added, jeeringly. "Well, it's the best you can do, and if you'll just leave me alone, I shan't even speak to you. There's still room here for two men. We shall soon see which will die first, provided they don't come to us, which seems a tough job."
The young man said:
"If we were to hammer, they would hear us, perhaps."
"I'm tired of hammering. Here, try yourself with this stone."