“I’ve no idea. The river has either disappeared underground or we’ve been brought up a little side creek and left the main channel itself. There is very little water here—only a few inches at the most and it is running very sluggishly. There is a tunnel to the right up which we must have come, but it is very low; I can hear the sound of swiftly running waters, but I don’t feel strong enough to investigate in the dark.” “Of course not, Alan,” answered Desmond, and then Jez-Riah said pathetically, “I am hungry, O Ar-lane.” Alan shook his head wearily. “There is no food here. The purple light has gone. I am afraid we are far from the vegetation of the underworld.” They talked in low tones for some time—they all felt ill and weak. The papyrus and all their treasures were so far safe, and the censer still remained fast on Alan’s back. Their clothes were nearly dry, so they realized they must have been thrown up by the water for some considerable time. While they talked they suddenly heard the sound of heavy blows from somewhere above their heads. Then the sounds increased and they heard that which it was impossible for them to mistake—they knew it too well—the dull roar of blasting operations in a mine! Alan’s eyes were shining. “Did you hear that?” he asked excitedly. “You know that sound? Haven’t you heard that dull roar in the pit at Grimland?” Desmond spoke huskily. “You mean that we are—” “We are immediately below a mine. White men are not far away, I am sure. They may be Britishers like ourselves—oh, how can we get to them?” Wildly they hacked at the roof above them, but the sounds they made were puny and little and made no impression in the distance. Tired and weary they all fell asleep, and when they awoke there was silence everywhere. They were suffering terribly from hunger; could they have seen themselves they would have been shocked at their appearance. Pale, emaciated, with hollowed eyes and deep furrowed cheeks, they looked almost like old men, instead of youths still in the glory of their manhood. They fell into a stupor, and hardly roused themselves, so weak and tired were they, when all at once there came upon their ears a mighty explosion which shook the place they were in and sent stones and rocks hurtling all about them in the darkness. Then came a rumbling deep and terrible. “It’s all right,” whispered Alan. “They are only blasting again.” But neither Desmond nor Jez-Riah answered him. Weak and hungry they lay inert and senseless upon the ground. The throbbing overhead began again, and Alan alone in his agony beat at the roof with his hands, but realizing his weakness fell on the ground beside his cousin and gave vent to dry, hard sobs.