Brownsmith's Boy Part 69

There was the same terrible silence about me, and it seemed to grow deeper. A short time before I had heard Shock breathing hard, but now his breath came softly, and then seemed to cease.

That silence had lasted some time, when all at once it was broken by my companion as I knelt there in the soft sand.

"Mars Grant! I say. You awake?"

"Yes."

"What yer doing of?"

"I am saying my prayers."

There was another silence here, and then Shock said softly:

"What yer praying for?"

"For help and protection in this terrible place," I cried pa.s.sionately; and I crouched down lower as I bowed myself and prayed that I might see the suns.h.i.+ne and the bright sky once again--that I might live.

Just then a hand was laid upon my shoulder, and I felt Shock's lips almost touch my ear as he whispered softly:

"I say--I want to say my prayers too."

"Well," I said sternly, "pray."

There was again that silence that seemed so painful, and then a low hoa.r.s.e voice at my side said slowly:

"I can't. I 'most forgets how."

"Shock," I cried, as I caught at his hands, which closed tightly and clung to mine; and for the first time it seemed to come to me that this poor half-wild boy was only different to myself in that he had been left neglected to make his way in life almost as he pleased, and that in spite of his wilful ways and half-savage animal habits it was more the want of teaching than his fault.

I seemed to feel brighter and more cheerful as we sat together soon after, discussing whether we should light the candle again, and all at once Shock exclaimed:

"I say."

"What, Shock?"

"I won't shy nothing at you no more."

"It does not seem as if you will ever have the chance, Shock," I cried dolefully.

"Oh, I don't know, mate," he said; and at that word "mate" I seemed to feel a curious shrinking from him; but it pa.s.sed off directly.

"Shall I light the candle?" he said after a pause.

"Yes, just for one look round," I said. "Perhaps we can find a way out."

The candle was lit, and I started as I saw how much the sand had crept in during the time that we had been asleep. It had regularly flowed in like water, and as we held the candle down there was one place where it trickled down a slope, just as you see it in an egg-boiler or an old-fas.h.i.+oned hour-gla.s.s.

We looked all round; went to the spot where the hole ended in what was quite hard sandy rock. Then we looked up at the top, where we could dimly make out the crack or rift through which the smoke had gone, but there was no daylight to be seen through it, though of course it communicated with the outer air.

Then we had a look at the part where we had come in, but there the sand was loose, and we had learned by bitter experience that to touch it was only to bring down more.

"I say," said Shock, as we extinguished the sc.r.a.p of candle left, part of which had run down on Shock's hand; "we're shut up."

"Shut up!" I said indignantly; "have you just found that out?"

"Well, don't hit a fellow," he cried. "I say, have a bit?"

"Bit of what?" I cried, as I realised how hungry I had grown.

"Taller," he said. "Some on it run down. There ain't much; two or three little n.o.bbles. I'll give yer a fair whack."

"Why, you don't mean to eat that, you nasty fellow," I cried.

"Don't!" he said; "but I do. Here's your half. I've eat worse things than that."

"Why, Shock," I cried, as a flash of hope ran through me, "I forgot."

"Forgot what?" he cried. "Way out?"

"No," I said gloomily; "but my sandwiches--bread and meat Mrs Solomon cut for me."

"Bread and meat!" he shouted. "Where is it?"

"In my jacket. I hung it on a stone in the side somewhere here. Light a match."

_Crick--crick--crack_ went the match; then there was a flash, and the sputtering bubbling blue flame of the sulphur, for matches were made differently in those days, when paraffin had not been dreamed of for soaking the wood.

Then the light burned up clearly, and Shock held the splint above his head, and we looked round.

"There ain't no jacket here," said Shock dolefully. "What did yer say bread and meat for?" he continued, as the match burned out and he threw it down. "It's made me feel so hungry. I could eat a bit o' you."

"I can't understand it, Shock," I said.

"I wish I'd got some snails or some frogs," he muttered. "I could eat 'em raw."

"Don't," I said with a shudder.

"I knowed a chap once who eat two live frogs. Put 'em on his tongue-- little uns, you know--and swallowed 'em down. He said he could feel 'em hopping about inside him after. Wasn't he a brute?"

"Don't talk to me," I cried, as I went feeling about the wall, with my head in a state of confusion. "I know I had the jacket in here."

"Have you got it on?" he said.

"No--no--no! I hung it on a bit of sharp stone that stuck out of the wall somewhere, and I can't feel the place. It's so puzzling being in the dark. I don't know which is front and which is back now."

"Front's where the soft sand is," said Shock.

"Of course," I cried, feeling half stupefied all the time. "Then this is the front here. I hung it on the stone and it was just above my head."