His light soon gave out; darkness surrounded him again, but he kept on.
He moved from side to side of the passage, feeling his way.
His journey was slow, very slow and painful, but it was better to keep going, he knew that.
He had one match left but he dared not light it. He wanted to reserve that for a case of greater need.
The emergency that called for its use soon arose.
The heading seemed to have grown suddenly wider. He went back and forth across it and touched all the pillars carefully. The way was divided. One branch of the gallery bore to the right and another to the left.
Straight ahead was a solid wall. Ralph did not know which passage to enter. To go into one would be to go still farther and deeper into the recesses of the old mine; to go into the other would be to go toward the slope, toward the outer world, toward his mother and his home.
If he could only see he could choose more wisely.
Had the necessity arisen for the use of his last match?
He hesitated. He sat down to rest and to consider the question. It was hard to think, though, with all that whirling and buzzing in his fever-stricken brain.