“We’re going to find those two boys,” said Vores through his set teeth. “By-and-by, if we don’t come back, you send a fresh shift, and let ’em bring us some prog and some blankets; but I’m hoping you’ll find them up at grass when you get there. Now off you go, and so do we.”
They parted without another word, and the next minute the dim light of the lanthorns borne by the men were dying away in two directions—the party bearing the Colonel progressing slowly till he recovered himself somewhat and ordered them to stop.
“Nay, sir, there’s no need,” said Hardock; “we keep on taking you in three shifts, and can go on for long enough.”
“Thank you, my lads, thank you,” said the Colonel; “but I am better now. Anxiety and fatigue were too much for me. I’m stronger, and can walk.”
“Nay, sir, you can better ride.”
“If I am overdone again I will ask you to carry me,” said the Colonel. “I am not a wounded man, my lads; only at the heart,” he added bitterly to himself. “How am I to face his mother if he is not found?”
They set him down, and he walked on slowly for a few hundred yards; but after that one of the men saw him display a disposition to rest, and in his rough way offered his arm.
“May help you a bit, sir, like a walking stick,” said the man, with a smile.
“Thank you, my lad. God bless you for your kindness,” said the Colonel as he took the man’s arm; and they went on again for some time till far ahead there was the faint gleam of a light reflected from the wet granite rock, and the Colonel uttered a cry—
“Ah! Quick! quick! My poor boys! At last! at last!”