Geoffrey longed to say something in his own defence to the miner, as they went along under the starlit sky, but his pride kept him silent; and, gradually growing calmer and at his ease as the fresh breeze from the sea blew upon his face, they went on and on till they began climbing the rugged path to where the engine-house stood up dim and gaunt against the sky, with its lit-up windows and door having a grotesque resemblance to the face of some fiery monster, who was uttering a low, panting roar. They found the engine steadily working, raising and lowering the enormous rod of the series of pumps, and a steady, rushing noise told that the water was running fast. "They're both fast asleep," said Pengelly. "Hallo! who's that?" "Where?" said Geoffrey. "I don't see any one." "I'd be sworn I saw some one go away," exclaimed Pengelly, leaping forward, but only to return to where Geoffrey stood. "I expect it was fancy, sir; but let's go and rouse them up. They've no business to be asleep." He led the way into the engine-house, where, by the glow from the stoke-hole fire, the two men on duty could be seen lying back on the stone bench that formed their seat, fast asleep; and, though Pengelly shook them again and again, he could only evoke a deep stertorous snore from each in turn. "I don't like this, sir," said Pengelly. "Let's take a look round." Geoffrey took a lantern from a rough shelf, and together they visited office, stables, and the various buildings, ending by going towards the shaft, when Pengelly suddenly uttered a cry. "What's wrong?" cried Geoffrey, excitedly, though the knowledge had come to him at the same moment as to his man. "She's burst in, sir. Oh, listen! She's burst in!" And as Geoffrey bent over the shaft, the fearful sound of the rushing water flooding the mine rose from the echoing depths upon his ear. Stunned by the nature of the catastrophe, Geoffrey Trethick stood clutching the framework of the shaft, and leaned over listening to the surging roar of the water as it seemed to him to come bursting up through the winzes in fountains and rushing in triumph through each gallery and drive. As for Pengelly, he had thrown himself upon the ground, and for a time neither spoke. "Is this treachery or accident, Pengelly?" cried Trethick at last in a hoarse, changed voice. "Call it judgment, sir--call it judgment," groaned the miner. "If we sin, the punishment must find us out." "Pengelly?" cried Geoffrey, as he turned upon him in his rage. "There, I cannot argue with you now. What can we do?" "Do!" cried Pengelly, piteously. "Do nothing. What can we do but pray and ask for mercy and help, sir, from above." "Help!" cried Geoffrey. "God helps those who help themselves. Let us be up and doing, man alive."