The noise in the mine continued with the same violence; there are no words with which to describe the horrible uproar. It seemed to us that our last hour had come. Mad with fear, we gazed at one another, questioningly. "The evil genius of the mine's taking his revenge," cried one. "It's a hole broke through from the river above," I ventured to say. The professor said nothing. He merely shrugged his shoulder, as though he could have argued out the matter in full day, under the shade of a mulberry tree, eating an onion. "It's all folly about the genius of the mine," he said at last, "The mine is flooded, that's a sure thing. But what has caused the flood, we down here can't tell...." "Well, if you don't know what it is, shut up," cried the men. Now that we were dry and the water was not touching us, no one wanted to listen to the old man. The authority which his coolness in danger had gained for him was already lost. "We shan't die from drowning," he said at last, quietly; "look at the flame in your lamps, how short it is now." "Don't be a wizard, what do you mean? Speak out." "I am not trying to be a wizard, but we shan't be drowned. We are in a bell of air, and it is this compressed air which stops the water from rising. This airshaft, without an outlet, is doing for us what the diving bell does for the diver. The air has accumulated in the shaft and now resists the water, which ebbs back." "It is the foul air that we have to fear.... The water is not rising a foot now; the mine must be full...." "Where's Marius?" cried Pages, thinking of his only son, who worked on the third level. "Oh, Marius! Marius," he shrieked. There was no reply, not even an echo. His voice did not go beyond our "bell." Was Marius saved? One hundred and fifty men drowned! That would be too horrible. One hundred and fifty men, at least, had gone down into the mine, how many had been able to get out by the shafts, or had found a refuge like ourselves? There was now utter silence in the mine. At our feet the water was quite still, not a ripple, not a gurgle. The mine was full. This heavy silence, impenetrable and deathly, was more stupefying than the frightful uproar that we had heard when the water first rushed in. We were in a tomb, buried alive, more than a hundred feet under ground. We all seemed to feel the awfulness of our situation. Even the professor seemed crushed down. Suddenly, I felt some warm drops fall on my hand. It was Carrory.... He was crying, silently. Then came a voice, shrieking: "Marius! my boy, Marius!"