“Can that,” snapped Rex, “‘tisn’t good to speak ill of the dead.... I’m sorry,” he added, in a different tone, “I didn’t mean just that, but this graveyard’s getting my nerves all upset.”
“We will try the other way,” the Duke suggested, quietly. In a few paces he had walked into a blank wall. “I think we will rest for a little,” he said, wearily. “I confess I haven’t the faintest idea where we are.”
They sat down with their backs to the wall; despair was creeping over both of them.
Rex loosened his clothing at the neck. “If only we could get a breath of air,” he sighed; “we’ll asphyxiate before we’re done.”
His head was splitting. For a little time they sat in silence. Then he asked: “How long d’you reckon we’ve been fumbling round since we lost the light?”
“Three-quarters of an hour; an hour, perhaps. It seems longer, but I don’t think it can be more.”
“And there’s Simon waiting with the car — he’ll reckon the escape’s proved a wash-out and clear off soon if we can’t find a way out of this damn’ place.”
“If he was ever there,” added the Duke. “I have not counted on that car from the beginning; you will remember what Leshkin said — Simon has been under arrest for some hours, I fear.”
Rex got to his feet. “Come on,” he said, “let’s take the first passage we come to and walk straight ahead — we must come some place some time.”
“No,” De Richleau protested, “that would be madness; we should get hopelessly lost. We cannot be far from the central cave. You shall act as a pivot, holding the string, and I will walk in direct directions from you, counting my paces each time as I go. That will at least give us the position and shape of the chamber.”