“Where was it, father?”
“In the face of the cliff—a mile away.”
“What, overlooking the sea?”
“Yes, my boy, and the air was rushing out of it with tremendous force. It was a mere crack, and took a long time to open sufficiently for a man to pass in. But there, don’t talk about it. We have passed through as terrible an experience as you, and it has nearly killed the Major.”
Gwyn passed the greater part of the next twenty-four hours in sleep, and then woke up, and was very little the worse. He rose and went to Joe, who snatched at his hand, and then nearly broke down; but, mastering his emotion, he too insisted upon getting up; and soon after the two lads went on to the Major’s, where the old officer was lying back in an easy-chair.
“Hah!” he cried, as he grasped the boys’ hands; “now I shall be able to get better. This has nearly killed me, Joe, my boy; but I’ve been coming round ever since they found you.”
“Tell us how it all was, father,” said Joe, as he sat holding the Major’s hand in his. “Colonel Pendarve always put me off when I asked him, and told me to wait.”
“I’m ready to do the same, my boy, for it has been very horrible. But, thank heaven, only one life has been lost!”
“Has one man been drowned?” cried Gwyn, excitedly. “I thought everyone was saved.”
“One man is missing, Gwyn—that man Dinass. They say he was hanging about the mine that day, and he has not been seen since, and I’m afraid he went down unnoticed. Oh, dear; I wish we had not engaged in this wild scheme; but it is too late to repent, and the poor fellow will never be found.”