Just as the first faint streaks of dawn stole into the chamber Don was awakened by the captain’s hand on his arm and the captain’s other hand on his lips.
“S—sh!” whispered his uncle, as Don sat up in surprise.
Don followed the direction of his uncle’s eyes, and saw that his father had risen, and was standing in a somewhat strained and unnatural attitude.
Richard Sturdy stood for a moment and turned his face first to the right and then to the left. Don caught a glimpse of his eyes, and saw that they had an expressionless appearance, almost as though they were made of glass.
Then his father started off with the stiff step of a soldier on parade, down one of the passages that led off to the right. In an instant the captain and Don were on their feet and following him on tiptoe.
On Richard Sturdy went, until Don could hear the faint falling of the water that had been such a blessed boon to him the morning before.
His father followed the bank of the stream until he came to a place where the little river seemed to lose itself through a narrow passage into a small mound of earth.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Mr. Sturdy stepped into the stream, bent down until his back was in almost a horizontal position, and disappeared under the mound.
Don and the captain followed his example. Their faces almost touched the water as they bent down, but there was still room for them to breathe.
A moment later, they emerged into an apartment of about twenty feet in length and width. At one side it sloped gently upward.