“That’s right, Ladle—so I am,” whispered Vince coolly; “and that’s why I came in here for the moment, to think whether we could possibly hide.”
“Hist! I can hear them coming.”
Vince stood listening to the murmur of voices coming out of the opening above them.
“Ever so far back yet,” he whispered; and he dropped upon his knees and opened the tinder-box and the lanthorn, which he had placed before him on the sand.
“No, no; don’t do that,” protested Mike, who was half wild with alarm.
“Can’t help it: we must have a light,” said Vince; and the cavern began to echo strangely with the nicking of the flint and steel.
“Then come in the other cavern,” said Mike, as he stood holding the club and cudgel.
“Don’t bother me. Other fellows would hear me there, and the wind blows in.”
And all the time he was nicking away, and in his hurry failing to get a spark to drop in the tinder.
“Oh! it’s all over,” said Mike. “They’re close here.”