“But we’re not going to give up till we’ve seen where the water runs?”
Mike remained silent.
“We must do what we meant to do?”
“Very well,” said Mike, drawing a deep breath, which was followed by a gasp.
“Come on, then, and let’s get it over.”
Setting his teeth firmly, Vince once more attacked the unknown, and came upon another sharp turn, where the water must have eddied round, and was reflected almost back upon itself, and then turned away, after another rounded hollow, almost at right angles.
Here the slope became a little more inclined, still not enough to make progress difficult; but as soon as the two windings had been passed, they knew that the goal they had marked out for themselves was at hand, for the noise suddenly became louder, and was unmistakably caused by water rushing over stones.
“Take care!” cried Mike warningly. “You’re close to it.”
“Yes,” cried Vince excitedly; “we are close to it;” and he stopped and held up the lanthorn, so that his hand struck against the roof. “Look there!”
Mike pressed close, and looked at the object which had taken his companion’s attention; but for a few moments he realised nothing save that the passage had grown more contracted, and that the roof seemed to be formed by two huge pieces of glistening granite leaning together. Then he looked down and saw that the floor, which was smoother than ever, ran down suddenly, while a faint, damp, salt odour of sea-weed struck upon his nostrils as a puff of air was suddenly wafted up.