"I say, don't go right away and leave me, Dummy." "Who's a-going to?" said the boy, looking round in surprise. "I know you wouldn't on purpose, but keep looking round. I can't keep awake. My legs do, but all the rest goes to sleep, and I begin getting in a muddle." "Oh, we shall soon be out now," said the boy laughing. "Soon be out! I never knew the place was so big before. Keep looking back to see that I don't drop down fast asleep." "I'd make you go first," said Dummy, "but you don't know the way." "No: keep on as you are, and make haste." "Can't: must go steady, because of the candle." "Oh dear!" sighed Mark. "I am so sleepy, and it's beginning to get down below my belt, to where my leg was hurt." "No, no, don't you think that," cried Dummy. "Let's keep on talking." "Yes," said Mark, jumping at the proposal. "Let's keep talking--Who are you laughing at?" "You, Master Mark. You are sleepy. 'Tarn't far, now. Fresh air'll soon rouse you." There was no reply, and as the boy glanced back he could see that his companion was beginning to reel about like a drunken man, and that his eyes had a peculiar dull, fixed look. The next minute the lids drooped, and he walked on as if that which he had said was quite true--that all was fast asleep but the legs, which went on automatically, and supported their load. "With a fal, lal-lal, lal-lalla, lalla, la!" yelled Dummy, not unmusically; and it had its effect, for Mark sprang at him, and caught him by the shoulder. "What was that?" he cried excitedly. "On'y me singing, Master Mark. Soon be out now." "That's what you keep on saying," cried the lad, pettishly. "I don't believe we're going right. You've taken a wrong turning by mistake. Here, I can't go any farther, Dummy. I must lie down and go to sleep again. It's horrible to keep on like this. I know I shall fall." "You do, and I'll stick a pin in you," said the boy roughly. "What!" "I'm not going to have you fall asleep again. Come, rouse up, Master Mark; I'm ashamed of you. For two pins I'd hit you over the head." "What!" cried Mark, in an access of passion; "why, you ugly big-headed mole, how dare you speak to me like that?" "'Cause I like," cried Dummy sharply. "Talking of going to deep, like a great gal. Yah! Gen'lemen aren't no use. Never do have no legs." "You insolent dog!" roared Mark, leaping at him, and striking the boy twice heavily on the back, with the result that the one candle was jerked out of the stick he carried, to fly forward on to the floor, flicker for a moment or two, and then, before it could be seized, go out, and with it Mark's bit of passion. "Oh!" he cried, as he stood fast in the darkness. "There, you've done it now," cried Dummy, in mock tones of horror. "Yes, be quick; get out the flint and steel." "What for?" "To get a light." "For you to begin knocking me about again." "No, no, Dummy; I won't touch you again. It was your fault: you made me so cross."