They heard it fall, and the glow struck against the wall to their left, lighting up the passage beyond the corner.
“Take care, Master Mark,” whispered Dan Rugg.
“Ay, and you too, Master Ralph,” whispered Nick Garth. “P’r’aps they’re lying wait for us.”
“No,” said Mark, aloud. “They’re away somewhere, and I hope they haven’t seen our lights.”
Whizz—thud!
There was an involuntary start from the attacking party, for at that moment the burning link Ralph had thrown came sharply back, struck against the wall where the glow had shone just before, and dropped, blazing and smoking, nearly at their feet.
“That settles it,” said Mark excitedly.
“Yes, and that explains the chink I heard. They’re waiting for us. Ready? We must charge.”
Ralph’s words were followed by the pressing forward of the men behind—those of each family being eager to prove their valour by being before their rivals; and the next minute half-a-dozen were round the corner, with the two lads at their head, to find that the passage had suddenly widened out into a roomy chamber, toward whose high roof the smoke from the torches slowly ascended, and contracted again at the end, about a dozen yards away.
“Yes, I remember,” whispered Ralph. “I had forgotten: it goes off in a passage round to the left again at that corner.”