“Get back,” said Oliver, with his lips to his friend’s ear. “The candles are guttering away terribly, and we must not be left in the dark.”
“No,” yelled Panton, “that wouldn’t be pleasant. Hang it, all my candle’s done.”
Time had gone faster than they had expected since the second candles were lit, and turning to Oliver he said, sharply,—
“There, you lead the way back. It isn’t far if you step out. Forward!”
Oliver wanted no telling, and he started back, but did not begin to breathe freely till the angle of the rock wall was passed and they found themselves again in silence, just too as another candle began to flicker.
“Hullo!” cried Oliver, glancing back. “What does this mean?”
“What?” said Panton.
“The number of lights. Yours is gone and this one will be out directly, but there ought to be three more. Drew, Smith, ourselves. Here, where is Wriggs?”
There was no answer, and in a strained, excited voice, Smith shouted,—
“Hi, Billy lad, where are yer?”