He led the way, Joe followed, and Dinass came last with the other lanthorn; and in a few minutes the great archway contracted and grew lower and lower, till it very nearly met their heads, and the sides of the place were so near that they could in places have been touched by the extended hands.
“Hold hard a moment,” said Dinass, after they had gone on a short distance; and as the boys turned to him wonderingly, he continued, “this here’s the main lead of course, but it’s sure to begin striking out directly right and left like the roots of a tree. What you’ve got to do’s to keep to the main lead, and not go turning off either side. It’s not very easy, because they’re often as big as one another. That’s what I wanted to say to you as one thing to mind. T’other’s to keep a sharp look-out for ways downward to lower leads. There would be no railings left round here, ’cause the wood’ll all have rotted away. I’d keep your light low down, and if you see a place like a square well don’t step into it. You won’t break your neck, ’cause it will be quite full of water, for the pumping hasn’t reached down there, but you might be drowned, for it aren’t likely I’m coming down after you.”
“I’ll take care,” said Gwyn, with his voice sounding husky; and Joe nodded, with his eyes looking wild and dilated.
“That’s all I wanted to say,” said Dinass, “so on you go.”
“Give another shout,” said Gwyn, “and let them know we’re here.”
“What for?” said the man, roughly.
“You heard what I said—to let them know we’re here. They answered before, but I suppose voices travel a long way.”
“Sometimes,” said the man, with a strange laugh.
“Shout, then; your voice is louder than ours,” said Gwyn.
“What’s the good o’ shouting? They’re miles away somewhere.”