“But if they were here,” cried the master; “that’s what I wanted to do to them. I say, Mr Raystoke, you’ve done it now.”
Half angry, half amused, but all the while smarting with the pain caused by a blow he had received, Archy remained silent, listening to the heavy breathing and muttering of his companions in misfortune. The sounds above ground had ceased, and it was evident that the smugglers had made good their escape.
Again the silence was broken by the master, who raging with pain and mortification, exclaimed,—
“Well, Mr Raystoke, sir, you know all about this place; which is the way out?”
“Up above here, Mr Gurr, close to where we stand.”
“Very well, sir; then why don’t you lead on?”
“Because they have shut and fastened the trap, and heaped about a ton of stone upon it.”
“Well, then, we must hack through the door with our cutlashes, and let the stone down.”
“What’s that?” cried Archy excitedly,—“a light!”
For there was a dull report and a flash of blue like lightning; and, running down the slope, the midshipman beheld that which sent a thrill of terror through him. For, away toward the far end of the cave, there was a great pool of flickering blue light; and, as it lit up the ceiling and the huge square stone supports of the place, he saw that which explained the meaning of what had seemed to be a wonderful phenomenon.