into absolute
darkness. "Here, bring up the other lantern."

There was silence, broken by panting and scuffling as of two men engaged
in a struggle.

Then Sergeant James said hoarsely, "All right, sir?"

"Yes," panted Lennox, "but I thought I was gone."

"Who has got that other lantern?" asked the captain.

"It went out, sir," came in a husky tone from its bearer.

"Bah!" exclaimed Captain Roby. "Here, two of you make your way back to
the top; be smart, and bring two more lanterns."

There was a low, hissing sound as of men all drawing in a deep breath at
the same time, and before the captain could repeat his command a
peculiar sound came up the hole.

"Look out!" cried Lennox. "Bayonets here! Some one is coming up."

Sergeant James sank upon his knees in the darkness, felt about for the
edge of the hole, and then leaning over, seized hold of the tree-trunk,
and whispered, "Some one's trying to drag it down, sir." Then in a
stentorian voice: "Ahoy there! Fire straight down, my lads!"

There was a final jerk given to the trunk, next a grating and scratching
sound against the wall, and then a rushing noise caused by the
dislodging of a stone which fell with a crash, sending echoes repeating
themselves far below, and after what seemed to be a measurable space of
time there was a dull _plosh_ as the stone plunged into water.

"Well," said Dickenson, breaking the silence as all about him stood
breathlessly listening for the next sound, "I'm rather glad that wasn't
I."

"Attention!" cried Captain Roby angrily as two or three of the men burst
into a half-smothered guffaw. "Who has a match?"

"I have," said Dickenson, striking a wax vesta as he spoke, the bright
flash being followed by the feeble little taper flame; "but it's nearly
the last. Bring that lantern here."

There was a quick response, the bearer opening the door with fumbling
fingers, and as he held the rapidly burning-down match Dickenson drew
the pricker from his belt, held the light close, and began to operate on
the wick of the little lamp inside the lantern.

"Only slipped down," he said. "Wick was too small. Hold the lantern
still, man. That's better. I shall get it up directly."

The scratching of the sharp steel point sounded quite loudly on the
socket of the lamp as the wick kept eluding the efforts made, and the
faint light threw up the grim faces around in a strangely weird way,
while not another sound was heard but the his