“That will be quite enough,”. Bathurst said. “It will be hot work and hard. We will relieve each other every five minutes or so.”
A very short time sufficed to break through the wall.
“Thank goodness, it is earth,” Wilson said, thrusting a crowbar through the opening as soon as it was made.
“I had no fear of its being rock, Wilson. If it had been, they would not have taken the trouble to have walled the sides of the cellar. The soil is very deep all over here. The natives have to line their wells thirty or forty feet down.”
The enemy were quiet all day, but the garrison thought it likely that, warned by the lesson of the night before, they were erecting a battery some distance farther back, masked by the trees, and that until it was ready to open fire they would know nothing about it.
“So you have turned miner, Mr. Wilson?” Isobel Hannay said to him as, after a change and a bath, he came in to get his lunch.
“I calculate I have lost half a stone in weight, Miss Hannay. If I were to go on at this for a month or two there would be nothing left of me.”
“And how far did you drive the hole?”
“Gallery, Miss Hannay; please call it a gallery, it sounds so much better. We got in five yards. I should hardly have believed it possible, but Bathurst is a tremendous fellow to work. He uses a pick as if he had been a sapper all his life. We kept the men pretty hard at work, I can tell you, carrying up the earth. Richards is at work now, and I bet him five rupees that he and Herbert don't drive as far as we did.”
“There is not much use in betting now, Mr. Wilson,” Isobel said sadly.