og barked again and tugged at him, but, finding his efforts of no
avail, he stood with his paws resting on his master's breast, threw up
his head, and uttered a dismal long-drawn howl which went echoing along
the passages, and a faint shout was heard from far away.

The dog sprang from where he stood, ran a few yards, and stood barking
furiously before running back to where Gwyn lay, when he seized and
shook him again, and howled, ending by giving three or four licks at his
face. Then he threw up his head once more, and sent forth another
prolonged, dismal howl.

This was answered by a faintly-heard whistle, and the dog barked loudly
over and over again, till a voice nearer now called his name.

All this was repeated till a gleam was seen on the wall, and now the dog
grew frantic in his barking, running to and fro, and finally, as voices
were faintly heard, and the gleaming of lights grew plainer, he crouched
down with his head resting on Gwyn's breast, panting heavily as if tired
out.

"Here, Grip! Grip! Grip! Where are you?" rang out in the Colonel's
voice; and the dog answered with a single bark, repeated at intervals
till the lights grew plainer, shadows appeared on the walls, there was
the trampling of feet, and a voice said,--

"Hold up, sir; he must be close at hand. The dog keeps in one place, so
he must have found them. Here, here, here!"

There was a long whistle, but the dog did not leave his place, only gave
a sharp bark; and the next minute lights were being held over the Major
and Colonel Pendarve, as they knelt beside their sons, trying all they
knew to bring them back to their senses.

Their efforts were not without effect, for after a time Gwyn opened his
eyes, stared blankly at the light, and said feebly,--

"Don't! Let me go to sleep."

Shortly after the two boys were being carefully carried in a
semi-unconscious state by the willing hands of the search-party, through
the bewildering mazes of the old mine, with Grip trotting on in front as
if he were in command; and in this way the foot of the shaft was reached
and they were safely taken to grass.

CHAPTER THIRTY SIX.

GRIP'S ANTIPATHY.

"I really think you ought to stay in, Gwyn," said Mrs Pendarve,
anxiously.

"Oh, I'll stay in if you like, mother," said the boy, patting the hand
that was laid upon his arm, and looking affectionately in his mother's
eyes; "but don't you think it would be all nonsense?"

"Yes," said the C