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His tones chased away his master's feeling of uneasiness, and he went on:
"That's a good boy; but what about your notion of this place leading into the cavern where those ruffians are? We must be far past Ergles, even if we are in the right direction."
"No," said Dummy confidently, as his father, who now came up, lantern in hand, looked doubtful too.
"Why do you say no, boy?" said Sir Edward.
"Because we've got among the same sort of rock as you find at Ergles."
"Good, lad!" burst out Dan Rugg. "That's minding your teachings. But are you right?"
"Yes, father: look," said the boy, holding up his lantern toward the glittering roof of the hall in which they stood. "There it is: Blue John."
Dan raised his lantern too, and drew his miner's pick from his belt.
_c.h.i.n.k_, _clash_.
There was a sharp blow from the pick, and Dan stooped to take up the piece of rock he had struck off, and handed it to his lord.
"Boy's right, Sir Edward," he said. "Look at that."
"But what has Blue John, whoever he is--Oh, pis.h.!.+ I had forgotten the name of the blue spar. Is there any of it in Ergles?"
"Only place about here where there is any, Sir Edward, and that's a piece."
"Then we may be close to the cavern," said Sir Edward, lowering his voice.
"Or in it, perhaps," said Mark excitedly.
He started, for at that moment Dummy clapped a hand upon his lips, and pointed forward.
"Cover your lanterns," he whispered.
The word was pa.s.sed along back, and the next moment they were standing in darkness, watching a faint gleam of light in the distance.
It was playing upon the glittering prismatic crystals which covered wall, roof, and floor, and these flashed as the light played upon them, disappeared, and came into sight again from behind a Gothic pillar, was again eclipsed, and once more came into sight; and now, plainly seen, they made out that it was the light of a lantern, which shone upon a man's face as he went slowly along what seemed to be an opening, which led him past where they stood watching.
Then the light seemed to go down toward the floor, lower and lower, as it went on till it pa.s.sed out of sight, but left a faint glow.
"Let Dummy and me go," whispered Mark to his father.
"Yes. Cautiously. Don't be seen."
Dummy was panting to be off, and keeping his lantern hidden, he felt his way onward toward the glow, keeping tightly hold of Mark's hand, till, as they came nearer, they saw that the man must have been descending a steep rift, and as the light came into sight again, they found that they were standing on the very edge of this place, and that the light was away to their left, twenty feet or so lower, and gleaming upon the surface of a smooth far-spreading pool.
CHAPTER THIRTY.
NEARING DAWN.
The two lads stood there motionless for a time, wondering what the lantern-bearer could be doing, for he evidently had no suspicion of his being watched. Then as they saw that in place of gleaming over the water, the lantern was once more in motion, they crouched down, with their eyes alone over the edge of the clean-cut chasm, feeling that whoever it was must pa.s.s just beneath them, when they would be able to see which way he went, and so gain a clue to the robbers' hold.
The light came nearer, and it was plain that whoever bore it was coming very slowly, but they grasped the reason directly, for he was pa.s.sing over a flooring of slippery crystals, and as he came on they could hear him breathing hard.
As they had antic.i.p.ated, he came very close beneath them, and Mark felt that if he looked up they would be seen. But he whom they watched walked stooping, and letting the light fall upon the glittering ascending floor, so that at last he was not six feet below them, and Mark said in a quick whisper: "Sir Morton!"
"Great Heavens!" came back in company with a sharp crash, as of an earthenware pitcher falling in s.h.i.+vers upon the rocky floor.
"Hus.h.!.+"
"Who is it?"
"Friends," whispered Mark.
"Thank Heaven! At last--at last," came up, with a piteous groan, and they heard a heavy fall.
"Quick, Dummy," whispered Mark. "We must go down to him."
"Listen first," said the boy: "p'r'aps some one heard."
But as he spoke there was the sound of a hoa.r.s.e laugh from a long distance off, and Dummy whispered: "Didn't hear. Been to fetch water, and broke the pitcher. I say, Master Mark, wasn't I right?"
Mark made no reply, for he was lowering himself down over the edge, and directly after he dropped on to the crystals below.
"Show the light, Dummy," he whispered, and the boy lay face downward and swung the lantern down as far as he could reach.
As Mark touched the fallen man's hand he began to recover consciousness.
"Not a dream--not a dream," he murmured. "Whoever you are, have you come to help?"
"Yes; but hus.h.!.+ Purlrose and his men--are they near?"
"Too far to hear us speak; but hide your lights. Now tell me, are you one of those who attacked these wretches?"
"Yes; and we have reached you at last."
"Ah!" sighed the prisoner. "It was time--it was time. I don't know your voice; I could not see your face; but if you know, tell me, for mercy's sake--my poor boy--was he killed?"
"No. Badly wounded, but alive, and he will live."
Mark heard the prostrate man muttering, and felt the hand he grasped trembling violently.
"It puts life into me," he whispered, "when I was nearly spent. Tell me--pray tell me--where is my boy! Not a prisoner?"
"No: safe with us, at the Black Tor."
"Safe--at the Black Tor!" faltered Sir Morton. "Then you are an Eden?"