Chapter Twenty Six.
To the Bitter End.
If ever an awful silence fell upon two unfortunate beings, it was upon those lads, deep down in the strange mazes of the ancient mine. For some moments neither could speak, but each stood gazing at his companion, with the two shadows strangely mingled upon the rugged, faintly-glittering wall.
Joe was the first to speak again, for his passionately-uttered question was not answered.
“He warned us to beware of the holes and places, and he must have slipped down one.”
“Not he,” said Gwyn, bitterly, as he stood scowling into the darkness. “He warned us when he was making up his mind to hang back and leave us. A miserable coward!”
“You think that?”
“I’m sure of it. A sneak! A miserable hound! Oh, how could anyone who calls himself a man act like this!”