“I’d ha’ came shovelling arter him ’fore now. I say, ain’t you tired?”
“Tired!” I said. “No, I never thought of feeling tired shut up in this horrible place. Let’s try if we can’t get out by the way the smoke went.”
“I’ve been trying,” said Shock; “but it’s too high up. You can’t reach it.”
“Not if you stood on my shoulders?”
“No,” he said. “I looked when you had hold of the candle, and if you did try you’d only pull the sand down atop of your head.”
I knew it, and heaved a deep sigh.
Then there was a long silence, and I was roused out of thoughts about how we had enjoyed ourselves that morning, and how little we had imagined that we should have such a termination to our holiday, by a heavy breathing.
I listened, and there it was quite loud as if some animal were near.
“Do you hear that, Shock?” I whispered.
There was no answer.