He called to her softly as he came towards the top, and she hastened down to meet him. She was certain something had gone amiss, but her courage was sufficient to sustain almost anything, so long as she knew he was safe. "Got a bit hungry," he told her, off-handedly. "Those chaps do keep one waiting!" "Sh-s-s-sh!" she said, in a warning whisper; "I think they're just outside." "You saw them come up?" he asked her, eagerly. "Four of them--after you fired the bombs. They put a bridge across the hole, as you thought, perhaps, they might." "H'm," said Sidney, quietly, going to the door and peering forth on the jungle. "They haven't gone down since?" "Not that I saw. I wasn't watching all the while." "You haven't heard them talking, near the door?" "No, oh no! I haven't heard a thing! I haven't known what to do--or whether you were alive or dead. I didn't know what my duty was when I saw them come up, and wanted to fire the cannon! I thought the day would never end! Have you had to give up at last?" "Certainly not!" he assured her, cheerfully, aware from every accent of her voice what tortures she had suffered there alone. "I must soon return--and you must go to bed. I haven't the slightest idea they will come before next high tide, about eight, or later, in the morning. Meantime you did exactly right. They haven't the slightest notion of this secret passage, you may be sure, or nothing on earth could have kept them out. And they long since returned to their boats.... I suppose you have had neither food nor water. A little hurried supper for us both, and I must go down to the basement for the night." Elaine had removed the cord from her arm, and secured it by the door. Sidney ignited a slender piece of torch-wood, by the smoldering brands maintained in the upper passage. He carried it promptly around the angle of the gallery, however, as an added precaution against the escape of one revealing beam through the chink that pierced the barrier facing the jungle world. The dinner they ate was neither warm nor comforting. Cold fish is barely sustaining, while the tonic properties of water are scarcely worth describing. Elaine, however, was enormously reheartened, thus to have Sidney there again, and know he had suffered no hurt. She bade him good-night when their meager repast was finished, with the bravest cheer that Grenville had taken to heart for many a weary day. Then, with the cord once more on her arm, she resumed her place by the door. CHAPTER XLIII THE HOUR OF CLIMAX