"There's no long rigmarole, Bob. You know how the corporal yelled out and clutched at me." "No; I only guessed at something of the kind," replied Dickenson unwillingly. "We could not see much." "Well, in his horror at finding himself lifted he completely upset me. It was all in a moment: I felt myself gliding over the slimy stone, and then I was plunged into deep water and drawn right down." "But you struck out and tried to rise?" said Dickenson, overcome now by his natural eagerness to know how his comrade escaped. "Struck out--tried to rise!" cried Lennox, with a bitter laugh. "I have some recollection of struggling in black strangling darkness for what seemed an age, the water thundering the while in my ears, before all was blank." "But you were horror-stricken, and felt that you must go on fighting for your life?" "No," said Lennox quietly. "I felt nothing till the darkness suddenly turned to bright sunshine, and I have some recollection of being driven against stones and tossed here and there, till I dragged myself out of a shallow place among the rocks and up amongst the green growth. Then a curious drowsy feeling came over me, and all was blank again. That's all." "But weren't you in agony--in horrible fear?" "Yes, when I felt myself falling and tried to save myself." "I mean afterwards, when you were being forced through, that horrible passage." "What horrible passage?" said Lennox, with a faint smile. "What horrible passage, man? Why, the tunnel, or channel, or whatever it is--the subterranean way of the stream under the kopje, in the bowels of the earth." "I told you I was horrified for a moment, and then I was choking in the water, till all seemed blank, and then I appeared to wake in the hot sunshine, where I was knocked about till I crawled out on to the bank." "But didn't you suffer dreadfully?" "No." "Didn't you think about England and home, and all that?" "No," said Lennox quietly. "Weren't you in fearful agony as you fought for your life?" "Not the slightest; and I don't think I struggled much." "Well, upon my word!" cried Dickenson in a tone of disgust. "I like this!" "Do you, Bob? I didn't." "You didn't? Look here, Drew, I'm disgusted with you." "Why?" said Lennox, opening his eyes wider. "Because you're a miserable impostor--a regular humbug." "What! don't you believe I went through all that?" "Oh yes, I believe you went through all the--all the--all the hole; but there don't seem to have been anything else." "Why, what else did you expect, old fellow?" "What I've been asking you--pains and agonies and frightful sufferings and despairs, and that sort of thing; and there you were, pop down into the darkness, pop under the kopje, pop out into the sunshine, and pop-- no, I mean, all over." "Well, what would you have had me do? Stop underneath for a month?"