ry, and every man's breath came with a catch, for
all at once the stones began to glide again; increasing their rush till
it grew tremendous, and the watchers felt that all was over, for the
light disappeared and the odour that ascended was stifling.

"Haul! Haul!" came from below, sending a spasm of energy through all at
the mouth as they pulled in the rope.

"Steady, steady, my lads," cried the mate. "Got him?" he shouted.

"Ay, ay! Haul quick!" came in a stifled voice, and the mate and his
companions felt a chill run through them as they grasped the fact that
Smith was either exhausted or being overcome by the foul gas set at
liberty by the falling stones.

"Haul steady, my lads, and quick," said the mate, as he went down on one
knee. "No; walk away with the rope."

His order was obeyed, and the next minute he was reaching down as the
dimly seen lantern came nearer and nearer, revealing Smith's ghastly
upturned face and the strange-looking figure he held. Then, almost flat
upon his chest, the mate made a clutch, which was seconded by Drew,
Panton aiding, and Oliver Lane was lifted out of the chasm and borne
into the open sunshine, slowly followed by Smith, as the men cheered
about the peculiar-looking figure--for clothes, face, hair, Lane was
covered with finely-powdered sulphur, in a bed of which he had been
lying.

"Better get him back to the brig," said the mate.

"No, no!" cried Oliver, rousing himself. "I shall be better directly; I
struck my head against a block of stone, or one of them struck me. It
was so sudden. They gave way all at once, and it was hardly a fall, but
a slide down. I was stunned though for a few moments."

"A few moments!" cried the mate with a grim laugh. "Why, my lad, we
were ever so long before we could make you answer."

Oliver looked at him wonderingly, and then turned and held out his hand
to Smith.

"Thank you," he said. "It was very plucky of you to come down and fetch
me up."

"Oh, I dunno, sir," said the sailor in a half-abashed way. "Course I
come down; anyone on us would. But it arn't a nice place, is it?"

"Nice place!" cried Panton, who was full of eager interest as he
examined the fine sulphur clinging to his companion's clothes. "Why it
must be one of the old vents of the mountain. You can smell the gases
here."

"You could smell 'em there, sir," said Smith gruffly. "'Scaping orful.
Thought they'd be too much for me. Felt as if I must let go."