“Well, did you hear what was said?” cried Gwyn, closing and fastening his lanthorn.
Still there was no answer.
“Here, Tom Dinass,” cried Gwyn, raising his lanthorn, as he turned to look back; “why don’t you do what you’re told?”
His answer was a sudden snatch at his arm by Joe, who clung to it in a fierce way.
“What’s the matter? Aren’t you well? Oh, I say, you must hold up now. Here, Tom Dinass.”
“Gone!” gasped Joe, in a low whisper, full of horror.
“Gone? Nonsense! he was here just now.”
“No. It’s ever so long since he spoke to us. Gwyn, he has gone back and left us.”
“Left us? What, alone here!” faltered Gwyn, as the grey, sparkling roof seemed to revolve before his eyes.
“Yes, alone here, Gwyn! Ydoll, old chap, it’s horrible. Can we ever find our way back?”