e out now,
because there mayn't be enough of the other one to get you out by."

"By George," said he, "you think of everything."

Bobbie blew. Out went the candle. You have no idea how black-velvety the
darkness was.

"I say, Bobbie," said a voice through the blackness, "aren't you afraid
of the dark?"

"Not--not very, that is--"

"Let's hold hands," said the boy, and it was really rather good of him,
because he was like most boys of his age and hated all material tokens
of affection, such as kissing and holding of hands. He called all such
things "pawings," and detested them.

The darkness was more bearable to Bobbie now that her hand was held in
the large rough hand of the red-jerseyed sufferer; and he, holding her
little smooth hot paw, was surprised to find that he did not mind it so
much as he expected. She tried to talk, to amuse him, and "take his mind
off" his sufferings, but it is very difficult to go on talking in the
dark, and presently they found themselves in a silence, only broken now
and then by a--

"You all right, Bobbie?"

or an--

"I'm afraid it's hurting you most awfully, Jim. I AM so sorry."

And it was very cold.

* * * * * *

Peter and Phyllis tramped down the long way of the tunnel towards
daylight, the candle-grease dripping over Peter's fingers. There were no
accidents unless you count Phyllis's catching her frock on a wire, and
tearing a long, jagged slit in it, and tripping over her bootlace when
it came undone, or going down on her hands and knees, all four of which
were grazed.

"There's no end to this tunnel," said Phyllis--and indeed it did seem
very very long.

"Stick to it," said Peter; "everything has an end, and you get to it if
you only keep all on."

Which is quite true, if you come to think of it, and a useful thing
to remember in seasons of trouble--such as measles, arithmetic,
impositions, and those times when you are in disgrace, and feel as
though no one would ever love you again, and you could never--never
again--love anybody.

"Hurray," said Peter, suddenly, "there's the end of the tunnel--looks
just like a pin-hole in a bit of black paper, doesn't it?"

The pin-hole got larger--blue lights lay along the sides of the tunnel.
The children could see the gravel way that lay in front of them; the air
grew warmer and sweeter. Another twenty steps and they were out in the
good glad sunshine with the gree