“I never thought of it,” replied Aleck; “but now you talk about eating and drinking you make me feel ready. Let’s have something, Mr Wrighton; it will help to pass away the time.”
The result was that the contents of the basket were spread between them, and from forcing down a mouthful or two of food the prisoner’s appetite began to return, and a good meal was made, Aleck and the smuggler naturally playing the most vigorous part.
Chapter Twenty Five.
Aleck ate heartily, for the state of affairs began to look bright, but as he played his part his eyes were busy, and he noted that the beautiful effect of light which came through the transparent water beneath the submerged arch grew less and less striking till the colour had nearly faded out, while the water had evidently risen a good deal in the long canal-like pool, and was still rising, and where the cavern’s weird configuration had in one part appeared through a dim shadowy twilight all was black darkness.
There had been a little talking during the consumption of the meal, but when it was ended silence had fallen upon the group. The smuggler had proceeded to fill a black pipe which he had lit at the lanthorn, and then drawn back a little, leaving the two youths to themselves; but very little was said, conversation in the man’s presence seeming to be impossible.
The pipe was smoked to the very last, and then, after tapping out the hot ashes, the smuggler coughed and turned to the others.
“Look here, gen’lemen,” he said; “I think we understand one another a bit now, which means I’m going to trust you two and you’re going to trust me?”
“Yes,” said Aleck.