He brought back the lamp, and then commenced to yell at the top of his voice, varying this proceeding by hurling the wooden stool up against the slabs overhead, which, in spite of the injury to his left arm, he continued doing till every leg was smashed and only the seat remained.
"Yo-ho!" he shouted. "The dog's heard me; he's barking like mad. Yo-ho! help here—help!"
I made some feeble attempt to contribute to the uproar, but my voice seemed suddenly to have failed me, and my cheer was nothing but a croak. Strange noises were ringing in my ears, and a shower of sparks danced before my eyes.
How long this continued I could not have told, but at length there was a muffled, "Who are you down there?" and more shouting on the part of George. Then I became aware of the fact that Woodley was hugging me in his arms, laughing and crying, and assuring me that we were saved.
Straightway I found myself mounted with him on the back seat of a coach. We were tearing along at breakneck speed in the twilight of a winter afternoon; there was a great roaring in the air, which drowned even the rattle of the wheels, and looking round I was horrified to see following us a great onrushing wall of water, as though the sea had overflowed the land. Faster and faster became our wild gallop, but the huge line of breakers was gaining on us every moment; now we were overtaken, and a great wave was rearing its head above us to sweep us to destruction. I heard a muffled voice shout, "Stand from under!" There was a crash, a blaze of light, and I became unconscious.
Long after, whole centuries later it might have been, I became aware of the fact that I was staring upward at some oblong patch of light. Slowly this resolved itself into an opening in the roof of the passage, and I realized that two men and a boy were staring down at me in mute astonishment. Then, as my dizzy brain grew clear for a moment, I recognized the last named as Miles Coverthorne.
Once more the roar of a troubled sea was in my ears; I had a horrible idea that I had been thrust down into a vault and should be buried alive. I made one last frantic effort to retain my failing senses.
"Miles," I cried pitifully, "take me out! Don't let them bury me! I'm Sylvester Eden!"
I could not hear his reply, but saw him move his head and hand, and the next moment I had been whirled away once more into darkness beyond even the land of dreams.