“Down! Are we going down?”
“Of course: flowing water is always going downward. There, you can hear that the rocks are farther away to right and left. Farther on they close in again till it is like a crack, and they run up to a point far above our heads. We must have a good light some day, Nic, if I am not taken. You would like to explore the place?”
“If you are taken!” cried Nic. “Why, you could defend yourself against a hundred people here, and set them at defiance.”
“Yes, but I might be surprised. I can’t live without sleep, Nic. They’ll take me some day. Friend Brookes will find out that you come to see me, and track you to the opening.”
“He would not dare to come along here.”
“No, but he would send those who did. But never mind that now. Let’s enjoy life while we can, even if it is such a poor life as mine.”
“I say, Frank Mayne,” said Nic, after a thoughtful pause, during which he had listened to the whish, whish of their feet through the water, and the whispering echoes, now close at hand, now far away.
“Say on, boy.”
“I’m going to the port as soon as my father comes back.”
“Going, boy? I’m sorry. But you will come back?”