The boy instantly clapped his hand upon his master's mouth, and pulled him from the path through a mass of tangled undergrowth. They were at the edge of a small clearing. Through the still air Jack could now hear voices ahead; then came the faint glimmer of a light; and soon, as they crouched breathless behind a friendly trunk, two figures appeared on the farther side of the clearing, coming towards them, one carrying a lantern. The men's voices were low; even in this remote spot they were doubtless mindful that it is illegal to be abroad after dark. Jack held his breath as they passed within two yards of him. He caught a few words in Russian.
"How long do you think?"
"About three or four days—unless they can eat coal!"
Then a hoarse chuckle.
The voices receded; the light died away; the men were gone. One of them was tall and broad, a son of Anak: clearly the owner of the giant foot.
His heart thumping against his ribs, Jack waited until he thought all was safe; then with Hi Lo he recommenced his climb up the wooded hill. He had no doubt that these men, whose voices the boy had fortunately heard in time, were concerned in the disappearance of his father and the count. But what had been done with them? Were it not for the evidences of the struggle Jack would have been tempted to suppose that the men were in league with the two prisoners, conniving at or assisting their escape. But the state of the hut belied any such thought.
It was some time before he ventured to strike another match in order to make sure that he was still on the track; the merest glimmer seen from below might lead to disaster. When at last he thought it safe to do so, he saw clear indications of the recent passage of several feet. He hurried on at the greatest speed the difficult path and the darkness allowed, and after some twenty minutes emerged upon a kind of table-land above the bay. He remembered seeing it from the junk—a huge terrace in the hills, sloping gradually upward, and after about a mile ending in another steep incline. The road was here more easy to follow; there were no fallen trees; it was the so-called tundra of Sakhalin. The trees were not so thick: through gaps in them he caught glimpses of the sea, silvery in the moonlight; and he thought of the fair girl waiting in the junk, now doubtless in an agony of apprehension regarding her father's fate.
The two pressed on. By and by they came to the steeper ascent. It was necessary once more to verify the trail. Fearful lest a gleam should give the alarm below, Jack took off his hat and struck a match within it. There were the footsteps, going up and down the hill, which was not, like the slope below, covered with trees. Indeed, during the last few hundred yards the two searchers had stumbled over sleepers, rails, and other things indicating a railroad either abandoned or in course of construction. Once they came full upon an upturned truck; a little beyond, upon a coil of wire rope. Jack stopped more than once to examine these impediments, always careful to conceal his light; and he concluded that they were rather the relics of a railway than material for a new line. He was still wondering what had tempted Russian enterprise to construct and then to abandon a railway in this spot, so remote and difficult of access, when the explanation came suddenly. He found himself among the outworks of a deserted coal-mine. The ground was littered with timber, dross, rusty tools; the path had come to an end; and Jack stopped abruptly, at a loss what to do.
It was hopeless in the darkness to attempt to explore the workings, for he had no doubt now that his father and Count Walewski had been brought here and left in some remote part of the mine, to perish of starvation. He saw through the villainous scheme. "About three or four days—unless they can eat coal!"—the words were now explained. What the motive was he could not guess. The conspirators had shrunk from murdering their victims outright; but when starvation had done its work they would no doubt come upon the scene, discover the dead bodies, and claim the reward which the governor would probably have offered for news of the fugitives.
The matches were used up; it would be dangerous to attempt to trace out a route in thick darkness. All that could be done was to wait for the dawn. What that might bring forth who could tell? With morning light the prisoners would certainly be missed, and a hue and cry would be raised. Even if the plot were the work of officials, still a search would be made. In that case it would be perfunctory; while if they were innocent undoubtedly they would scour the country all round the settlement. There would be little to guide them. The main path from the hut was largely used; many tracks crossed and recrossed on it; and if the night's frost was succeeded by a thaw, as was almost certain, the footprints would become mere puddles and give no clue.