The dog barked in answer some distance away, and then came scampering back.

"Oh, here's one side, sir," said Hardock, taking a few steps to his left, and once more holding up his light against a rugged ma.s.s of granite veined with white quartz, and glistening as if studded with gems.

"How beautiful!" cried Joe.

"Let's throw a light on the subject," said Gwyn, merrily. "Open your lanthorn, Joe;" and as this was done he lit the end of a piece of magnesium ribbon, which burned with a brilliant white light and sent up a cloud of white fumes to rise slowly above their heads.

The light brightened the place for a minute, and in that brief interval the two friends feasted their eyes upon the crystal-hung roof and walls of the lovely grotto, whose sides rose to about forty feet above their heads, and then joined in a correct curve that was nearly as regular as if it had been the work of some human architect. A hundred feet away the roof sank till it was only two or three yards above the irregular floor, and the place narrowed in proportion, while where they stood the walls were some fifty feet apart.

Then the ribbon gave one flash, and was dropped on the floor, to be succeeded by a black darkness, out of which the lanthorns shed what seemed to be three dim sparks.

"What do you think of it, gen'lemen?" said Hardock, from out of the black darkness.

"Grand! Lovely! Beautiful! I never saw anything like it," cried Gwyn.

"Why, it must be the most valuable part of the mine," cried Joe.

Hardock chuckled.

"It's just the part, sir, as is worth nothing except for show," he said.

"It's very pretty, but there isn't an ounce o' tin to a ton o' working here, sir, and--"

His words were checked by a faintly-heard m.u.f.fled roar, which was followed by a puff of moist air and the customary whispering sound of echoes; but before they had died away Grip set up his ears, pa.s.sed right away into the darkness, and barked with all his might.

"Quiet, sir!" cried Gwyn; but the dog barked the louder.

"Kick him, Ydoll; it's deafening," cried Joe.

"Didn't that shot sound rather rum to you?" said Hardock.

"Oh, I don't know," replied Gwyn, who was slow to take alarm. "Sounded like a shot and the echoes."

"Nay; that's what it didn't sound like," said Hardock, scratching his head. "It was sharper and shorter like, and we didn't ought to hear it like that all this distance away."

"Isn't the roof of the mine fallen in, is it?" said Gwyn, maliciously, as he watched the effect of his words on his companions. "You, Grip, if you don't be quiet, I'll rub your head against the rough wall."

"Nay, this roof'll never fall in, sir," said Hardock, thoughtfully.

"More it's pushed the tighter it grows."

"Well, let's get some of the crystals," said Gwyn; "though it does seem a pity to break the walls of such a lovely place. But we must have some. Be quiet, Grip!"

"Let's have some lunch first," said Joe.

"Nay, gen'lemen," said Hardock, whose face looked clay-coloured in the feeble light. "I don't think we'll stop for no crystals, nor no lunch, to-day, for, I don't want to scare you, but I feel sure that there's something very wrong."

"Wrong! What can be wrong?" cried Gwyn, quickly.

"That's more than I can say, sir," replied the man; "but we've just heard something as we didn't ought to hear; and if you've any doubt about it, look at that dog."

"You're not alarmed at the barking of a dog?" cried Gwyn, contemptuously.

"No, no, not a bit; but dogs have a way of knowing things that beats us.

He's barking at something he knows is wrong, and it's that which makes me feel scared though I don't know what it is."

CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN.

FOR LIFE.

"What nonsense!" cried Gwyn, laughing. "Don't you be scared by trifles, Joe. There's nothing wrong, is there, Grip?"

The dog threw up his head, gazed pleadingly at his master, and then made for the farther opening.

"No, no, not that way," cried Joe.

"Yes, sir, we'll try that way please; it works round by the wet drive, and the big pillared hall, as you called it."

"But look here, Sam, are you serious?" said Joe; "or are you making this fuss to frighten us?"

"You never knowed me try to do such a thing as that, sir," said the man, sternly. "P'raps I'm wrong, and I hope I am; but all the same I should be glad for us to get to the foot of the shaft again."

"Why not go to where the men are at work?" suggested Gwyn; "they'd know."

"We shall take them in our way, sir; and we won't lose any time please."

"I should like to light up the place once more before we go."

"No, no, sir. You can do that when you come again."

"Very well," said Gwyn, who did not feel in the least alarmed, but who could see the great drops standing on the mining captain's face. "Lead on, then. Where's Grip?"

The dog was gone.

"Here! Hi! Grip! Grip!" cried Gwyn.

There was a faint bark from a distance, and Gwyn called again, but there was no further response.

"He knows it's wrong, sir," said Hardock, solemnly, "so let's hurry after him."

"Go on, then," said Joe; and Gwyn reluctantly followed them through the grotto, and then along a natural crack in the rock, which was painful for walking, being all on a slope. But this soon came to an end, and they found themselves in another grotto, but with a low-arched roof and wanting in the crystallisations of the first.

"You have been all along here, Sam?" said Gwyn, suddenly.

For answer Hardock took a few steps forward, and held up his lanthorn to display a roughly-brushed white arrow on the wall pointing forward.

"You can always tell where we've been now, sir," said the man. "This bends in and out for nearly a quarter of a mile; now it's caverns, now it's cracks, and then we come again upon old workings which lead off by what I call one of the mine endings. After that we get to the big hall, and that low wet gallery; I know my way right through now."