We stood rigid, paralysed, too dumb-stricken for speech or movement. And, in that pass, if you will believe me, the most unearthly horror of a voice hard by came to complete our demoralization. It rose between a hiss and bark, a swinish indescribable thing that tailed off into a bubbling snarl; and I thought it was the dead man caught by the legs struggling to rise and get at us. I could not have survived and kept my reason, I think, had not Harry at this instant scattered all shadows with a jubilant shout-- “Daylight! Look up there, Dicky! We’ve found the way.” I shook with the cry, and raised my despairing eyes. Sure enough, at a good height before and above us, a gleam of blessed dawn filtered down through the superincumbent soil. The accident of darkness had revealed it to us so soon as our pupils had forgotten the false glare of the candles. “O, Harry!” I cried, half hysterical. “O, Harry! what was that noise?” And he laughed out--“Light up again, you old funk! It was the best friend in the world to us.” Amazed, without understanding, I tremblingly rekindled the candle; and there, right before us, was a flight of stone steps going up--the ancient entrance to the crypts; and, risen bristling from his bed of straw and sticks at the foot of it, was our ally, our preserver, our most noble and honoured _the badger_. He was a surly auxiliary, resentful for his broken slumber. He stood setting at us, and bubbling, and showing his teeth, as cross a little Cerberus as ever divided his duty between guarding the way down and keeping damned souls from escaping. Harry softly pulled the geological hammer from his pocket. “Don’t!” I gasped. “You mustn’t! He saved us.” “I’m not going to attack,” said Harry. “But I must defend, if he makes a rush. Try a bite of him first, if you’re doubtful. I tell you, if he once fastens on, you’ll have to take him up with you.” Keeping close together, and our eyes on the little grey gentleman, we edged gingerly round towards the foot of the flight. Fortunately, as we advanced, he withdrew, coming behind us in a circle. “Go up first,” whispered Harry, “while I keep the rear.” Holding the candle to light him, I went backwards up the steps, until my head touched the canopy of soil and ruin which blocked their exit; and then, backwards, Harry followed me. The badger snuffed and gurgled, pointing his snout at us, but not offering to follow. “Now,” said Harry, turning round, “for the way!”