“Ydoll! You there? I say—what—what—where are we?”
“Don’t you understand?—where we lay down when we could get no farther.”
There was the sound of some one drawing a long gasping breath, and then silence again, till Joe spoke in a piteous voice.
“I was dreaming that father was taken ill in the night, and he called me. Oh, Ydoll, old chap, my head feels so queer. Then we haven’t found them? I don’t feel as if I could recollect anything. It’s all black like. We came down to find them, didn’t we?”
“Yes,” said Gwyn, “and walked till you stumbled and fell.”
“I did? Yes, I recollect now. I was regularly beaten. We came such a long way for hours and hours. Then we’ve both been to sleep?”
“I suppose so.”
“But why is it so dark?”
“The candle I set up burned out.”
“Well, light another. You have some more.”