o light but
that shed by the yellow lanthorn, the boat heaving up and sinking
beneath them, and the sounds of the water dripping and splashing, and
now and then making curious sucking and gasping noises, as it ran in and
out of cracks and crevices in the rocks.

All at once there was a loud, ringing, echoing blow upon the rock, as
the boat approached close to the side, and Mr Temple struck it sharply
with his hammer, for one mark had gone and the water was lipping and
lapping fast towards the other.

The scraps of granite flew pattering into the water, as blow succeeded
blow, Mr Temple making a deep mark on the rock to relieve his pent-up
feelings, and to take the attention of his boys, who kept looking at him
nervously, as if asking for help in this time of peril.

This done, he made Josh move the boat from side to side of their narrow
prison, inviting Dick and Will to help as he chipped here and chipped
there, and talked about the different kinds of granite and quartz that
he cleared from the dark mossy growth and the film of ages.

But there was the water lapping and lapping and rising, and it was plain
now that there would hardly be room to turn beneath the arch-like
opening that separated them from the portion where Josh had expected to
see the daylight.

It seemed to have grown intensely hot too, for the faint current of cool
air that they had felt since entering the place had stopped for some
time past, and still the water kept rising, and at last seemed to come
through the narrowing opening with so horrible a gurgling rush that it
affected even stolid Josh, who took his cap off and said that it was "a
gashly ugly noise."

No one spoke, for the attention of all was taken by the increasing
sounds made by the water, which seemed forced in now in a way that
affected the boat, making it rock and adding so to the horror of the
situation that Will leaned towards Josh and whispered for a few moments.

"It's only because there isn't so much room, Master Dick, that's all,"
he said.

"Yes, that be all," growled Josh; "it don't rise no faster than it did
afore. P'r'aps you wouldn't mind making another water-mark, sir.
T'other's 'most covered."

But Mr Temple's hammer was already raised as he spoke, and the cave
echoed with his blows.

"It sounds different, doesn't it, Will?" said Arthur softly. "It don't
echo so much, and seem to run along."

"No," said Will, in the same tone of voice, "there is not so much