anything that had happened to him since the time
when he ran back to the shaft to find the carriage gone and its place
filled with firebrands. His journey had been such a mournful waste of
time, of energy, and of hopeful anticipation.

But, after a little, he began to think that it was not quite so bad as
it might have been after all. He had his lamp and his oil-can, and
he was in a place where the air was fit to breathe. That was better,
certainly, than to be lying on the other side of the wall with poor
old Jasper. He forced new courage into his heart, he whipped his
flagging spirits into fresh activity, and resolved to try once more to
find a passage to the outside world.

But he needed rest; that was apparent. He thought that if he could lie
down and be quiet and contented for fifteen or twenty minutes he would
gain strength and vigor enough to sustain him through a long journey.
He arose and moved up the chamber a little way, out of the current of
poisoned air that still sifted in through the crevices of his rudely
built wall.

Here he lay down on a place soft with culm, to take his contemplated
rest, and, before he was aware of it, sleep had descended on him,
overpowered him, and bound him fast. But it was a gracious victor. It
put away his sufferings from him; it allayed his hunger and assuaged
his thirst, it hid his loneliness and dispelled his fear, and it
brought sweet peace for a little time to his troubled mind. He was
alone and in peril, and far from the pure air and the bright sunlight
of the upper world; but the angel of sleep touched his eyelids just as
gently in the darkness of this dreadful place as though he had been
lying on beds of fragrant flowers, with white clouds or peaceful stars
above him to look upon his slumber.

CHAPTER XXII.

IN THE POWER OF DARKNESS.

Ralph slept, hour after hour. He dreamed, and moved his hands uneasily
at intervals, but still he slept. There were no noises there to
disturb him, and he had been very tired.

When he finally awoke the waking was as gentle as though he had been
lying on his own bed at home. He thought, at first, that he was at
home; and he wondered why it was so very dark. Then he remembered that
he was shut up in the mines. It was a cruel remembrance, but it was
a fact and he must make the best of it. While he slept his oil had
burned out, and he was in total darkness. He felt for his oil-can and
found it. Then he found his lamp, filled it