"About a mile," answered Brownlee; "but we've worked a deal further out that way," pointing to the left. "We're either under the sea or close at the edge, out there." Charlie gave a little shudder. "Where is my work, please?" he asked. "Oh, we've passed your place; the door we came through last is the one you have to take care of. I'm just taking you round a bit, as you're new to it. Mind your head," he called, as they turned up a low gallery to the right, and they both went along stooping. "Stop there," said Brownlee, creeping along by himself a little further, and sitting on his heels opposite a wall of bright coal. "There," he said, "how would you like to sit cramped up like this for six hours, hewing coal, and hearing the stone above you crack like a gun, and move about as you work, expecting every moment you'll have to run for your life--that is, if you have the chance? I had a narrow escape last winter," he said, as he joined Charlie again; "two of us were working together, and all of a sudden there was an awful crack, like a cannon going off. It was who could scramble up and run quickest, I can tell you. It was my luck to be last, and down came a tremendous piece; the end of it just dropped on my foot as I was running, and it held me as fast as if a mountain had been on the top of me, although I was free all but my foot. None of them durst venture to me for a good bit, for there was an awful noise going on round me, and there I laid as fast as could be, expecting every moment would be my last." "What dangerous work!" exclaimed Charlie. "I should think nobody durst do it if they didn't know they had God to protect them and take care of them." "I'll see you to your work now," said Brownlee, turning the subject. "Here we are," he said; "do you see this seat behind the door? then all you've got to do is to sit here and pull that rope that opens the door when the putters or any of the men want to come through. The boys stay down twelve hours, but I'll see you again before I go up. It'll be lonely for you at first," he said, kindly. "Rather," said Charlie; "but I must remember that I am not alone." Brownlee looked at him inquiringly. "I mean, you know, that we are _never_ alone; that He is always with us," said Charlie, simply, with an upward glance and movement of the head. "Oh, aye," said Brownlee, hesitatingly, and moving off, as if he felt it was a subject he could not say much upon. It was strange how that thought clung to the miner--not alone; not alone! It haunted him, and often as he worked he glanced uneasily over his shoulder into the darkness beyond, with a sort of feeling that he was being watched--that there was a presence, an invisible something or some one hovering near, and listening to his very thoughts.