“The blind cavern lizards,” he said, half aloud. “I knew it. God bless the old dad, what a brain he has! He’ll be delighted with my report; and Janet, my darling, you shall have a home that will be the envy of all we know, and make the old Doctor proud of us. My darling!” he said softly, as, with his eyes half closed, he raised up her fair young face before him. “Hah! poor old Jessop, too. He must have a bit of the luck. I’ll tell the old man bygones must be bygones. We’ll have a clean slate. Jess isn’t a bad fellow after all. I might have gone down the wrong road a bit if it hadn’t been for Janet. Hang it all! the love of a dear sweet girl does keep a weak fellow straight.”
He glanced down at his hands and tweed suit, daubed with limestone mud, and showing a couple of tears in the stout cloth.
“Delightful party for a drawing-room, and—hullo! here’s the loop.”
He secured the rope, which came dangling down, felt that his specimens and tools were safe, and then slipped the loop over his head, sat in it as nonchalantly as if it had been a swing, uttered a loud “All right,” and the next minute he was being steadily hauled up towards the surface.
Chapter Seven.
Making Friends.
“Hallo, my lads!” cried Reed, as he reached terra firma and gazed around. “I didn’t know there was a public-house handy.”
“No, no, don’t blame the poor lads,” said a well-dressed, elderly man, smiling. “They were alarmed at your long absence, sir, and came on to me for help. We came round, and picked up these two brave fellows, and were ready for a search, but, thank heaven, it was a false alarm.”