And the seventh day was the Sabbath! The Lord rested on the Sabbath! Sabbath! Seventh! Seventh! Sabbath! These words kept ringing in Alan’s ears as he lay quiet and tranquil in the darkness. He wondered where he was, but was too tired to make much effort to find out. His senses were dulled and his whole body ached; he could see nothing, for total darkness surrounded him. Then unconsciousness again overtook him, and he dreamed again of the Marshfielden fields and the rippling brooks. When he awoke it was with a healthy feeling of hunger, and gradually his senses returned and he wondered where his cousin and Jez-Riah were. He called them by name, but there was no reply. He reached out on either side of him, but could feel nothing—he seemed to be alone. The silence was oppressive, the air heavy, and he found a great difficulty in breathing. He tried to think of the mad plunge for freedom into the swift underground river; he remembered feeling the cold waters close over him, followed by an interminable time under water when he could not breathe, when his lungs were bursting, longing to disgorge the used up air within him. Then he remembered a feeling of relief as he drew in a long breath of air, and afterwards—no more. He seemed to have fallen into a never ending dream. Now at last he realized he was safe again, and in his heart he thanked God for having watched over him and brought him once more to safety. As the past events became clearer, Alan rose up cautiously, but his head came in contact with the roof of the place he was in. He went on all fours and groped his way round the place. It was very small, perhaps twenty yards in circumference, and perfectly dark. Suddenly his hand touched something, something warm. It was Jez-Riah, and, close beside her lay Desmond. He spoke to them each in turn—shook them, but they showed no sign of having heard him. He listened for their heart beats, but neither showed any sign of life. The water that had carried them all to this new abode ran near, and Alan dragged the two bodies to the water’s edge. He dipped his hand in the cool liquid and found that it was only an inch or two deep at the most. He made a cup with his hands and dashed the water into his companions’ faces in turn, and at last was rewarded by a heavy sob from Jez-Riah and a groan from Desmond. “Dez, old man, how are you feeling now? Jez-Riah, are you better?” So from one to the other he turned, his only thought to bring them back to life and hope. Suddenly Desmond spoke. “That was a near shave, Lanny.” “How are you?” “I feel beastly.” “Where are we?” suddenly asked Jez-Riah.