into the deadly atmosphere. The old miner wiped the
perspiration from his brow. He counted eighty, ninety, a hundred
seconds. They shall never see him again. Then the pipe remained
steady.

Now they began to draw the rope. It was slack, and not tightened by
any burden. Ivan was, therefore, so far safe; he was still walking,
for the rope continued slack. Suddenly it got stiffer. Be careful now.
The cord again slackened; the old miner counted a hundred and sixty
seconds. Suddenly Ivan was seen coming out of the pit's mouth,
supporting himself upon the fallen stones of the archway; but his
strength failed, and as the men rushed to his assistance he tottered
and fell into their arms. His face was like that of a dying man.

They rubbed him with vinegar, and the fresh air soon revived him. He
sat up, and told them he was all right, but--

"The air down there is something awful," he said. "What is happening
to those poor creatures who are buried below?"

It never occurred to him to remember that those poor creatures were
the same ungrateful men who had deserted him, who had taken service
with the men who had sworn to ruin him, who had formed a conspiracy
against him, who were ready to murder him, who had sent a deputation
to the enemies of their native land. Here they lay, buried in the
depths of mother-earth, which thus revenged upon them their treachery.
Ivan had forgotten their sin against him and their country, and his
only thought was to save them if there was yet time.

Now that the ventilator had been set in motion, the work of rescue
might begin; but all the same it was a terribly hard fight.

Ivan divided his band of men into two divisions. Each man was only to
stay an hour at the dangerous work of clearing away the rubbish. Every
one must have his face covered by a cloth steeped in vinegar. So soon
as he began to feel faint he was to be carried away by his comrades.

When the day began to break the wreck of the fallen entrance had been
moved to one side, but in the mouth of the pit the sun could not
penetrate. The vault of slate-clay had fallen altogether to one side,
so that Ivan, when he had carried the pipe into the pit, had found
there was scarcely room to allow it to wind through the chasms. In the
spot where he had placed the mouth of the pipe the vault was
altogether destroyed.

It was an undertaking almost superhuman. What had been the work of
weeks had to be done in so many days. And yet it must be