“But it’s all a scare,” said Gwyn, banteringly.
“I hope so, sir, but I feel unked like, and as if something’s very wrong.”
“Think of old Grip playing the sneak,” said Joe, as they finally cleared the grotto-like cracks, and came upon flooring better for walking.
“Nay, sir, he’s no sneak. He’s only gone to see what’s the matter.”
“Without a light?” cried Gwyn.
“He wants no light, sir. His eyes are not like ours. Would you mind walking a little faster?”
“No; lead on, and we’ll keep up. But how long will it take us to get to the foot of the shaft?”
“Two hours, sir.”
“So long as that?”
“Every minute of it, sir—if we get there at all,” said the man to himself. And now they walked on at a good steady rate, only pausing once to trim their lights, and at last came to a turn familiar to both the lads, for it was the beginning of the passage where they had had the scare from having to pass through water, but at the end farthest from that which they had come by in the early part of the day.