“Mark, take this poor child’s other hand, and protect her when I am away. Now forward.”
A little soft cold hand closed tightly upon Mark’s, as he stepped to Minnie’s side; and then slowly and silently the party advanced under the girl’s guidance for quite two hundred yards through what seemed to be solid darkness, out of which her voice came in a low whisper from time to time.
“Stoop here—a little to the right—to the right once more—now through this narrow opening on the left. Only one can pass at a time: you first.”
Mark led, and passed through a rift, to see a feeble glow upon his left, where a candle was stuck against the rock, and beneath it lay a figure, very dimly-seen, while, apparently coming through an opening farther on, they heard the low hoarse sound of voices; and words came suggesting that the speakers were engaged in some game of chance.
Minnie withdrew her hands from her protectors, and hurried to kneel down by the figure in the corner, Sir Edward and Mark following, to bend over the prisoner.
“Too weak,” he panted—“I tried to come. Eden! A strange meeting, oh mine enemy! God forgive us all the past; and if when you—come back—a conqueror—for the sake of Him who died—protect my child.—Minnie!” he cried faintly, and the girl sank beside him with a wail.
Sir Edward went down on one knee, sought for, and took his enemy’s hand.
“Can you hear?” he whispered.
A feeble pressure was the answer.
“Trust me. I will. Now we are in complete ignorance of the place, and must be guided so as to succeed.”