ome a quiet country
parson.--But what extraordinary light is that?" he exclaimed, on
perceiving a narrow stream of fire, apparently at no great distance,
shoot up above the brow of a low hill just before them?"

"A singular kind of meteor, certainly," observed the poet. "I never saw
one like it before."

"Very like a sky-rocket; wasn't it?" observed Frank; "and a sky-rocket
I've no doubt it was; and as this happens to be the night of the 5th of
November, I dare say it proceeds from the very village to which we are
bound--an important place too, it should seem, from sporting
sky-rockets. Ah! there goes another. Huzza! we shall soon be amongst
them.--Oh! merciful Heaven!" he exclaimed, as his companion suddenly
vanished from his sight, having stepped inadvertently into the mouth of
one of those dangerous shafts we have before alluded to. A heavy sound
denoted the fearful depth to which he had been precipitated, which was
shortly followed by a loud, hollow crash, caused by a fall of some
fragments of detached earth, which, from the great depth it had to
descend, occupied several seconds ere it reached the bottom of this deep
abyss.

CHAPTER III.

Frank Trevelyan, almost petrified with horror at the dreadful
catastrophe, which there was just then sufficient light to enable him to
discern the nature of, remained for some moments riveted to the spot
from whence he had witnessed its occurrence; but soon partially
recovering his bewildered faculties, he fell upon his hands and knees,
and approaching the mouth of the shaft, called out, in a tone of
agonizing anxiety to his companion, but with scarcely a hope of being
responded to, when a faint voice, though from an awful depth, assured
him he was yet alive; but, it was to be feared, dreadfully injured; and,
in plain truth, he was in a situation of even greater danger than his
fellow-traveller was then aware of. Poor Vernon Wycherley had fallen
upwards of sixty feet perpendicularly, and had alighted on a projection
of the ground, occasioned by a drift that had been made in the workings,
which alone prevented him from being hurled to the bottom of the pit,
which was of vast depth, though partially filled with water. As it was,
his situation was so perilous, that it seemed only to add to the agony
of impending death, with a very remote prospect of deliverance. Every
thing depended upon his being able to secure himself upon the point of
ground where he then rested; and this b