boots at equal intervals against this wall."

"The miner's signal," explained the landlord, with a wave of his pipe.

"We felt that if we were once heard, and if hard work could do it, that
our mates would save us yet; and we encouraged one another as well as we
could. But presently the oil in our lamps gave out, and we were left in
darkness; and then our hope grew faint indeed. We had knocked for
four-and-twenty hours unintermittingly without any reply. We did not
cease, however, to discuss the possibilities of escape. We knew that all
was being done for us above-ground that could be done; that the surveys
of the mine were well executed; and that it was known exactly where we
were, if we were alive at all. There were more than a hundred men
employed in the lower workings, and it was a certainty that not one of
them could have escaped death; the attention, therefore, of the
engineers would be concentrated upon those parts of the mine that might
possibly be left above water."

"On the second night of our imprisonment we heard a distinct reply to
our signal; the old man who was of our company began to weep for joy,
though he was doomed, as it turned out, poor soul! never to see the
light. 'We shall be saved,' he said; 'do not fear.' We knocked again,
and again the reply was heard--they had found us out, and would never
relax their efforts to save us. 'God bless them!' said we all. We laid
our ears close to the rock, and presently heard the strokes of the pick,
but not very distinctly. When the other said he was afraid the rock was
thick, the old man cried out: 'No, it was not that; it was because we
were dull of hearing.' The fact was, that the seam was not only thick,
but very hard. It was strange, indeed, though sounds are easily
transmitted through rocks of considerable thickness, how our feeble taps
had been heard at all. Day after day, and each day a black night, went
on; every hour was to be the last of our captivity, according to the old
man; as for me, I was almost worn out, and heavy with sleep, but he was
in constant motion, knocking and listening. Then suddenly we heard a
splash in the water beneath us--he had lost his balance, slid down the
inclined plane, and been drowned. He never stirred a limb nor uttered a
cry. His fate discouraged and alarmed us two survivors exceedingly. If
help was coming, we now felt it would never come in time. We dug into
the shale with the handles of our lamps and with our finger