A few hours later the whole of the little town was shaken to its very foundations by something like an earthquake, accompanied by an ominous, booming sound which brought people flocking out of their houses with white faces. Some of them had heard it before--all knew what it meant. From the colliers' cottages poured forth women, shrieking and wailing,--women who bore children in their arms and had older ones dragging at their skirts, and who made their desperate way to the pit with one accord. From houses and workshops there rushed men, who coming out in twos and threes joined each other, and forming a breathless crowd, ran through the streets scarcely daring to speak a word--and all ran toward the pit. There were scores at its mouth in five minutes; in ten minutes there were hundreds, and above all the clamor rose the cry of women:-- "My mester's down!" "An' mine!" "An' mine!" "Four lads o' mine is down!" "Three o' mine!" "My little un's theer--th' youngest--nobbut ten year owd--nobbut ten year owd, poor little chap! an' ony been at work a week!" "Ay, wenches, God ha' mercy on us aw'--God ha' mercy!" And then more shrieks and wails, in which the terror-stricken children joined. It was a fearful sight. How many lay dead and dying in the noisome darkness below, God only knew! How many lay mangled and crushed, waiting for their death, Heaven only could tell! In five minutes after the explosion occurred, a slight figure in clerical garb made its way through the crowd with an air of excited determination. "Th' parson's feart," was the general comment. "My men," he said, raising his voice so that all could hear, "can any of you tell me who last saw Fergus Derrick?" There was a brief pause, and then came a reply from a collier who stood near. "I coom up out o' th' pit an hour ago," he said, "I wur th' last as coom up, an' it wur on'y chance as browt me. Derrick wur wi' his men i' th' new part o' th' mine. I seed him as I passed through." Grace's face became a shade or so paler, but he made no more inquiries. His friend either lay dead below, or was waiting for his doom at that very moment. He stepped a little farther forward. "Unfortunately for myself, at present," he said, "I have no practical knowledge of the nature of these accidents. Will some of you tell me how long it will be before we can make our first effort to rescue the men who are below?" Did he mean to volunteer--this young whipper-snapper of a parson? And if he did, could he know what he was doing? "I ask you," he said, "because I wish to offer myself as a volunteer at once; I think I am stronger than you imagine, and at least my heart will be in the work. I have a friend below--myself," his voice altering its tone and losing its firmness,--"a friend who is worthy the sacrifice of ten such lives as mine, if such a sacrifice could save him."