do?"

"Only unloose a few rings of this line we brought."

"What for? If you play me any tricks now we're in the dark, I'll--"

"Who's going to play any tricks?" grumbled the boy. "Men don't play
tricks. Here, kitch holt: now you can follow me, and feel me, if you
keep the rope tight, and won't go hitting yourself again the wall."

Mark grasped the end of the rope handed to him, and they started forward
in the intense blackness, the novelty and sense of shrinking soon
passing off, and the lad feeling more and more confidence in his leader.

"Don't feel a bit sleepy now, do you?" asked Dummy.

"Not in the least. I say, are you sure that you can go on without
taking a wrong turning?"

"Oh yes, I'm right enough, Master Mark."

"How far is it now?"

"On'y 'bout fifty fathom or so. We're just getting to the rise."

"Then we--no, you're wrong. We can't be. Why, if we were so near the
mouth we should see daylight."

"What! in the middle o' the night? Not you."

"What! You don't think it's so late as that?"

"Yes, I do. It's past twelve o'clock, if it's a minute."

"Then we must have slept a very long time below there."

"Hours upon hours," said Dummy, chuckling.

"Hark! What's that?" said Mark excitedly.

"Shouting," said the boy, after listening. "My! they are making a row
about it. They're coming to fetch us, because we've been so long."

The two lads were still making for the mouth of the mine, and were now
ascending the rough steps, to pause by the stone shed inside the
entrance, where tools, gunpowder for blasting, and several kinds of
tackle were kept, in among the candles and torches.

"Here, Dummy," cried Mark excitedly, as the noise outside and above them
increased, "what does this mean? They're fighting!"

"Fighting?" cried the boy excitedly.

"Yes, what can it mean?"

"Mean, Master Mark? I can tell you. It's the Darleys come at last to
take our place. Oh, why didn't I kill young Ralph that night when I
followed him home through the wood?"

"You did what?"

"Followed him. I wasn't sure he'd been trying to kill you, or I would."

"Come along, and don't talk," whispered Mark excitedly. "Ah! I have no
sword."

"Got a pick in your belt, and so have I."

"You'll stand by me, Dummy?"

"Won't I, Master Mark! I want to get a hit at some of 'em. You won't
stop me, will you, to-night?"

"If they've come and attacked us, no. Hush, quiet! Let's steal out
first, and see