“‘Men can’t go,’ said one of the day-shift, gruffly; ‘no one could live there.’
“‘You have not tried,’ again she cried passionately. ‘Richard Oldshaw,’ she said, turning to me with a red glow upon her face, ‘John Kelsey is down there dying, and asking for help. Will not you go?’
“‘And you wish me to go, then?’ I said, bitterly.
“‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Would you have your fellow-creature lie there and die, when God has given you the power and strength, and knowledge to save him?’
“We stood there then, gazing in one another’s eyes.
“‘You love him so that you can’t even help risking my life to save his, Mary. You know how dearly I love you, and that I’m ready to die for your sake; but it seems hard—very hard to be sent like this.’
“That was what I thought, and she stood all the time watching me eagerly, till I took hold of her hand and kissed it; and though she looked away then, it seemed to me as though she pressed it very gently.
“The next minute I stepped up towards the pit’s mouth, where there was a dead silence, for no one would volunteer; and, in a half blustering way, I said, ‘I’ll go down.’
“There was a regular cheer rose up as I said those words; but I hardly heeded it, for I was looking at Mary, and my heart sank as I saw her standing there smiling with joy.
“‘She thinks I shall save him,’ I said to myself, bitterly, ‘Well, I’ll do it, if I die in the attempt; and God forgive her, for she has broken my heart.’