Where the sparkling chamber had been was a whirling vortex of bubbling green water, in which tumbled grotesquely the body of a man.
The water boiled furiously along the tunnel and foamed into the gallery. The wooden supports of the iron door gave way; the door sank slowly into its appointed place.
Old Tom Hamon was dead and buried.
CHAPTER X
HOW YOUNG TOM FOUND HIS MATCH
The news spread quickly.
Tom Hamon heard it as he sat brooding over his wrongs and cursing the chicken-heartedness and fear of consequences which had robbed him of his revenge.
He started up with an incredulous curse and tore across the Coupée to the mines to make sure.
But there was no doubt about it. Old Tom was dead: the six weeks were still two days short of their fulfilment; the property was his; his day had come.