ving in these
dreadful waters. That there cramp taking me in the leg like that made
me feel as if one had got hold of me. I'm a horrible coward, Mas'r
Harry, that I am."

"Tom," I said, "this place is enough to unnerve any one."

Then we were silent, for the strange echoings of our voices had an
unearthly, terrible effect upon our nerves; and more than once I started
at the grotesque shadow of myself upon the wall. The roar of the great
waterfall came humming through the rift above our heads, while below the
waters hissed, and bubbled, and lapped against the rocks in a curious,
whispering, awe-inspiring fashion; and then moved by the same impulse we
both took off and wrung all the moisture we could out of our things
before standing shivering before the lights, one of which was already
beginning to gutter down and threatened to become extinct.

Upon examining our wallets we found that we each had a couple of candles
left, but our provision was very low; and the question now arose as to
the next proceeding.

"Won't do to lie down and die, Mas'r Harry," said Tom. "I'm ever so
much warmer now."

"No, Tom," I said, "we'll fight to the last; but what are we to do?"

"Well, Mas'r Harry, I'd first of all get up into the crack of a passage
up there before the lights go out, for there's no knowing how high this
water may rise; and if I ain't to see daylight no more, but to die here,
I should like to die dry and warm."

"Don't talk about death, Tom," I said with a shudder. "Let's fight for
life to the last, and, as you say, we'll climb up to the rift."

One candle burned out as we tried to move it, and deferring the lighting
of another for reasons of economy, we climbed to the narrow crack-like
passage and went along it about thirty yards before Tom, who was first,
turned round in a part where the passage widened a few feet.

"Now look here, Mas'r Harry," he said. "We don't know that there ain't
no other way out of the cave. I should say as there is if we could find
it; at all events we mustn't lie down and die till we've looked about
and the candles are burned away, and then felt about till we can't feel
no longer. So see here, Mas'r Harry, we're wet, and cold, and tired
out, and we can't do nothing better than sit down here and have a good
sleep. Then we'll wake up, eat the bit of grub there is left, and go to
work again fresh. What do you say?"

"Say? That I think you are right, Tom," I replied, trying to