gest man there had lost his nerve
and it was the voice of the old man, whom they had mocked so often, that
they were now ready to obey. A lamp was handed to him. He seized it and
dragged me along with him, taking the lead. He, more than any man, knew
every nook and corner of the mine. The water was up to my waist. The
professor led us to the nearest airshaft. Two miners refused to enter,
saying that we were throwing ourselves into a blind alley. They
continued along the gallery and we never saw them again.

Then came a deafening noise. A rush of water, a splintering of wood,
explosions of compressed air, a dreadful roaring which terrified us.

"It's the deluge," shrieked one.

"The end of the world!"

"Oh, God, have mercy on us."

Hearing the men shrieking their cries of despair, the professor said
calmly, but in a voice to which all listened.

"Courage, boys, now as we are going to stay here for a while we must get
to work. We can't stay long, huddled together like this. Let us scoop
out a hollow in the shale so as to have a place to rest upon."

His words calmed the men. With hands and lamphooks they began to dig
into the soil. The task was difficult, for the airshaft in which we had
taken refuge was on a considerable slope and very slippery. And we knew
that it meant death if we made a false step. A resting place was made,
and we were able to stop and take note of each other. We were seven: the
professor, Uncle Gaspard, three miners, Pages, Comperou and Bergounhoux,
and a car pusher named Carrory, and myself.

The noise in the mine continued with the same violence; there are no
words with which to describe the horrible uproar. It seemed to us that
our last hour had come. Mad with fear, we gazed at one another,
questioningly.

"The evil genius of the mine's taking his revenge," cried one.

"It's a hole broke through from the river above," I ventured to say.

The professor said nothing. He merely shrugged his shoulder, as though
he could have argued out the matter in full day, under the shade of a
mulberry tree, eating an onion.

"It's all folly about the genius of the mine," he said at last, "The
mine is flooded, that's a sure thing. But what has caused the flood, we
down here can't tell...."

"Well, if you don't know what it is, shut up," cried the men.

Now that we were dry and the water was not touching us, no one wanted to
listen to the old man. The authority which his coolness in danger had
gaine