CHAPTER XXVII.
So Lady Vane’s misgivings had not been without cause. The worst that she had surmised as possible had happened.
Buried alive! Was this the end of this terrible mine, to enter which seemed for ever to bring death and misfortune? First, Miriam Vane, her child, and James Outram, next, old Sir Harry Vane, then the Trauco queen, and now a large band of human beings, had come under its merciless sway.
The earthquake had passed away, leaving entombed considerably over twenty, all more or less young, none over the prime of life. Ah! to die thus was bitter indeed.
Mary and Willie behaved splendidly. There was no whining or crying on their part; they took example by their father and mother, who, after the first shock of horror had run through them, pulled themselves together, and prepared to meet the fearful situation with courage and fortitude.
So, too, did Harry, Topsie, and Freddy, like the plucky young Britishers that they were, and Shag of course knew as yet nothing about the impending doom. But it took a long time to make some of the Indian braves understand the situation. When they did, however, they howled and shouted in their despair, and rushed frantically to and fro like beings distraught, in spite of Aniwee and Piñone’s efforts to preserve order. But they were not all cowardly. Blancha, though she wept, did so silently. She had taken La Guardia Chica from Aniwee’s arms again, and seating herself on the ground rocked it gently to and fro, while Chorlo and Coquet stood silent and dumfounded, yet too brave to wail or lament.
Was there no outlet for escape? Sir Francis and Lady Vane scanned their surroundings eagerly. Far above them they could see the blue sky, and even the green of forest verdure, growing without. How they longed for wings, to soar aloft to the opening, and escape!