There fell upon him a terror like that which has turned men's hair grey in a single night. He did not doubt, he could not doubt, that some disaster had happened: he must hasten to the rescue: duty, humanity, friendship, honour—all these blending together in a voice of thunder urged him forward. Every moment was precious; and yet to venture into the dark chamber without a light seemed a piece of folly, for what was there to prevent him from meeting with the same fate as Idris?
He rose to his feet and turned his eyes towards the cliffs and sea-beach in the hope of seeing a coast-guard whose lantern would at this juncture be of inestimable service. But alas! no coast-guard was visible, and to go off in search of one was out of the question, when a minute might make all the difference between life and death.
No: he must venture in alone, and without a light, and he nerved himself for the task. Casting one glance at the sky, the sea, the land, as objects he might never see again, he snatched up the pickaxe to serve as a weapon of defence, against he knew not whom or what, and plunged into the mouth of the excavation that yawned black and grim before him.
His course through the passage was much quicker than that of Idris had been. There could be no danger here, seeing that Idris had traversed it in safety. Therefore the surgeon groped his way swiftly along the wall of the corridor until it suddenly turned off at right angles, whence he concluded that he was at the entrance of the sepulchral chamber.
"Idris, where are you?" he cried.
There was no vocal reply, but a faint splash greeted his ears like the movement of a hand through water, a sound which Godfrey interpreted as an answer.
For a terrible idea had seized him. The floor of the chamber was of earth only, and not of masonry, he thought: and the rain of centuries, percolating through the roof, had converted this flooring into a quagmire incapable of supporting the lightest weight. Idris had become immersed in it: had just sunk below the surface: his voice was gone: he had just given his last gasp!
How was he to save him? One step forward, and he himself might be in the abyss of mud.
To test his opinion he flung the pickaxe forward, taking care to avoid the spot whence came the splash. As it fell Godfrey drew a breath of relief. The clangour made by the falling implement proved that the quagmire was the creation of his fancy. Still, what had become of Idris that he made no reply? He must be somewhere within this chamber, seeing that there was no egress from it except by the passage. O for a light, if only that of a match! Its momentary gleam would suffice to dispel the mystery.