river must have widened out into a regular lake. How
shall we find the place where it narrows again?"

"Foller that there sound, sir, I think," said Cross.

"What sound?" I said.

"That, sir; listen. I can hear where it seems to be rushing in ever so
far away."

"Yes, I can hear it now," I said.

"Forward, then," said my uncle, and with the water once more but little
above our knees we waded steadily on after the light which Cross bore
breast-high.

"Cheer up, Pete," I said; "we must be getting on now. Why, if it came
to the worst we could turn back."

"Never find the way, sir," he said bitterly, and then he uttered a yell,
closely following upon a sharp ejaculation from the carpenter, who
suddenly placed his foot in some cavity of the smooth floor, fell
forward with an echoing splash, and the next moment the lanthorn
disappeared beneath the gleaming surface, leaving us in utter darkness.

_Wash, wash, ripple, ripple_ went the water, and the cries whispered
away as fading echoes, and then Pete's voice rose in a piteous wail.

"I knowed it, I knowed it," he said. "We shall never see the light
again. Oh, help, Master Nat, help! Here's one of them water-conders
got me by the leg to pull me down."

A cry that went to my heart and sent a shudder through every nerve, for
the darkness seemed so thick that it might be felt.

CHAPTER TEN.

INTO THE SUNLIGHT AGAIN.

There was a loud splashing noise, another cry, and the gurgling made by
someone being dragged under water; and then, just as I felt that the
horror was greater than I could bear, the carpenter cried:

"What's the matter with you? Don't make a row like that."

"I--I felt something ketch hold of me and pulling me down."

"Something! Do you call me something?" growled the carpenter. "Of
course I catched hold of you. You'd catch hold if you tumbled as I did.
Bad job about the light, master."

"Yes, a very bad job," said my uncle's voice out of the darkness. "How
was it?"

"Stepped down into some hole, sir. Felt myself going right into a
crack-like sort o' place."

"All stand still, then," cried my uncle, "while I strike a match.
Where's the lanthorn?"

"Oh, I've got that fast, sir; but you won't get the wick to light, I'm
afraid, now."

"Here, stop!" I cried, as a sudden feeling of delight shot through me.
"I can see daylight yonder."

"Bravo! Well done, Nat!" cried my uncle. "It's a long way off, but
there's a faint glea