her be here now than what I
was when she awoke me. Perhaps she will now be a friend and comforter to
you."

'I think those were the words. I could not help writing them. Poor Lucy
cried over the note, and we lowered down baskets of nourishment to be
handed in, but we heard only of Lord St. Erme's continued swoon, and it
was a weary while before the opening could be widened enough to help
the sufferers out. They were exhausted, and could work no more on their
side. But for him, it seems they would have done nothing; he was the
only one who kept his presence of mind when the crash came. One lamp
was not extinguished, and he made them at once consider, while the light
lasted, whether they could help themselves. One of the hewers knew that
they were not far from this old shaft, and happily Lord St. Erme had
a little compass hung to his watch, which he used to carry in his
wanderings abroad; this decided the direction, and he set them to
work, and encouraged them to persevere most manfully. He did not work
himself--indeed, the close air oppressed him much more than it did the
pitmen, and he had little hope for his own life, however it might end,
but he sat the whole time, supporting the head of the man who was hurt,
and keeping up the resolution of the others, putting them in mind of
the only hope in their dire distress, and guiding them to prayer and
repentance, such as might fit them for life or death. "He was more than
ten preachers, and did more good than forty discourses," said one man.
But he had much less bodily strength than they, though more energy and
fortitude, and he was scarcely sensible when the first hope of rescue
came. It seemed as if he had just kept up to sustain them till then,
and when they no longer depended on him for encouragement, he sank. The
moment came at last. He was drawn up perfectly insensible, together with
a great brawny-armed hewer, a vehement Chartist, and hitherto his great
enemy, but who now held him in his arms like a baby, so tenderly and
anxiously. As soon as he saw Lady Lucy, he called out, "Here he is,
Miss, I hope ye'll be able to bring him to. If all lords were like he
now!" and then his wife had hold of him, quite beside herself with joy;
but he shook her off with a sort of kind rudeness, and, exhausted as he
was, would not hear of being helped to his home, till he had heard the
doctors (who were all in waiting) say that Lord St. Erme was alive.
Lady Lucy was hanging over him in