"I come to see Bachelor Billy," he said. "Me an' him work togither at the head. He got it worse nor I did. I'm over it, only I'm wake yit. The likes o' it was niver seen afoor." He looked curiously in at the bed where his comrade was lying. "Come in," said Mrs. Burnham, "come in and look at him. He's not conscious yet, but I think he'll soon come to himself." The man entered the room, walking on the toes of his clumsy shoes. "Have you seen anything of Ralph since the fire?" continued the lady. Andy stopped and looked incredulously at his questioner. "An' have ye not heard?" he asked. "Heard what, Andy?" she replied, her face paling as she noted the man's strange look. "Why, they didn't get 'im out," he said. "It's in the mine he is, sure, mum." She stood for a moment in silence, her face as white as the wall behind her. Then she clasped her hands tightly together and all the muscles of her body grew rigid in the desperate effort to remain calm for the sake of the unconscious man on the bed, for the sake of the lost boy in the mine, for the sake of her own ability to think and to act. Goodlaw saw the struggle and rose from his chair. "It's a dangerous imprisonment," he said, "but not, of necessity, a fatal one." She still stood staring silently at the messenger who had brought to her these dreadful tidings. "They're a-thryin' to get to the mouth o' the shaft now," said Andy. "They're a-dhraggin' the timbers away; timbers wid the fire in 'em yit. Ye'd be shtartled to see 'em, mum." Then the lady spoke. "I will go to the shaft," she said. Her carriage was already at the door; she started toward it, throwing a light wrap across her arm as she went. Again the man on the bed moved and moaned. "Stay with him," she said to Andy, "until I come myself, or send some one to relieve you. See that he has everything he needs. He is my charge." Goodlaw helped her to the carriage. "Will you come with me?" she asked. He seated himself beside her and they were driven away. There was little that he could say to comfort and assure her. The shock was too recent. The situation of her son was too perilous. Darkness was coming on when they reached the scene of the disaster; one or two stars were already out, and the crescent of the new moon was hanging in the west. Great clouds of white smoke were floating away to the east, and where the breaker had that morning stood there was now only a mass of charred and glowing ruins. There were many people there, people who talked in low tones and who looked on with solemn faces. But there were no outcries nor lamentations; there was but one person, a boy, shut up in the mine, and he was kin to no one there. Up at the south-west corner of the pile they were throwing water on the ruins. An engine had been brought up from the city and was pouring a steady stream on the spot where the shaft was thought to be.