"Your dog, sir?" answered the man. "Oh yes, to be sure. You left him behind, didn't you? Well, as the train went into the tunnel, I saw him jump from the platform and follow it."
"What!" I said; "he wasn't following it when we reached Gower Street."
"Wasn't he? Then I expect he's still in the tunnel. The train went too fast for him to keep up with it."
"He'll be run over!" I exclaimed, very nervous for Snap's safety.
"Tell you what, sir. I'll go and get permission, if you like, from the inspector to take a lantern and see if we can find him."
I thanked the man, and he started off to get the necessary permission, which the inspector gave, after saying something about people having no right to bring dogs into the station. Together the man and I then went into the tunnel.
The unaccustomed darkness, to say nothing of the perils of such an expedition, inspired me with considerable dread, and I kept tight hold of my guide's arm. When we had advanced some two or three hundred yards along the under-ground highway, or rather "low" way, the lights of an up-train became visible. As it went by and we stood still for a minute, the roar and rattle were not calculated to dispel my nervousness. They were terrible—deafening. Immediately it had passed, the porter cried out,
"Look there, sir—look; there he goes!"
He was pointing toward the red danger light at the tail of the receding train, and there, sure enough, was Snap scampering after it at a pace which no one could have given a fox-terrier credit for. I began to call and whistle as loudly as I could, but my voice was drowned by the hissing whir and rattle going on. Just then another engine hove in sight on our line of rails, and we had rapidly to step back into one of the recesses, or man-holes, as I believe they are called. When this second train had shot past us, there again, to our astonishment, was Snap galloping after it. He had not observed us, of course. We then walked on some little way further along the tunnel, and in a minute another up-train passed us, and there once more was the dog behind it.
"How ridiculous," I cried, "and yet how painful, to see the poor little beast tearing to and fro for dear life in this way! He will surely be run over before long."