e. If the ventilator has a
copper tube, it would be impossible to introduce it through all the
zigzag of the rubbish and general wreck; if it has an india-rubber
pipe it would be too weak, and wouldn't stand being shoved forward."

"Some one must carry it into the pit."

"Some one?" repeated the engineer, with an air of amazement. "Look
yonder; they are drawing up the third man who was foolish enough to
venture down there; he is dead, like the other two!"

"No, none of them are dead; they will soon recover consciousness; they
are stifled by the foul air."

"All the same, I can hardly believe that you will find a man mad
enough to be the first to carry a tube fifty steps through all the
wreckage."

"I have already found the man. I shall do it."

The engineer shrugged his shoulders, but he made no effort to dissuade
him.

Ivan went back to the men, who meantime had been getting ready for
work. He called the oldest miner on one side.

"Paul," he said, "some one must carry the india-rubber tube of the
ventilator into the mouth of the pit."

"Good. Let us draw lots."

"We shall do nothing of the kind. I shall go. You are all husbands and
fathers with families. You have wives and children to provide for. I
have no one. How long can a man hold out in that foul air without
drawing his breath?"

"A hundred beats of his pulse; no longer."

"Good. Fetch me the pipe. Bind a cord round my body and hold the other
end. When you see that I no longer carry the pipe, draw the cord
slowly back, but take care to draw slowly, in case that I should have
fainted and that a sudden pull might strangle me."

Ivan loosened the woollen band from his waist, steeped it in a vessel
of vinegar, and wrung it out and wrapped his face in it, so that his
nose and mouth were covered. He then bound the cord firmly round his
body, took the foremost end of the india-rubber pipe upon his
shoulder, and began to make his way through the rubbish and _debris_
at the pit's mouth.

The old miner called after him, in a broken voice: "Count the seconds.
Fifty for going, fifty for coming back."

Ivan vanished behind the ruins. The miners took off their caps and
folded their hands. The old man held the fingers of his right hand on
the wrist of his left and counted his pulse. He had already counted
over fifty and the other end of the pipe had not moved. It had passed
sixty and was near seventy when suddenly it was pulled forward. Ivan
had penetrated