FullReads

They reached the foot at length, and a dim light shone ahead of them. The atmosphere was vault-like and penetratingly damp. The passage divided almost immediately, and a narrow track led off between black walls of stone to the right, where in the distance another lamp shone.

Fletcher turned towards this, but very suddenly Dot clasped his arm. “Oh, don’t let us go that way!” she begged. “Please don’t let us go that way!”

Hill paused in response to her urgent insistence. “What’s the matter with you, Dot?” he said.

She clung to him desperately, still holding him back. “I don’t know–I don’t know! But don’t go that way! I have a horrible feeling–Ah!” The deafening report of a revolver-shot rang out suddenly close to them.

Hill turned with a sound in his throat like the growl of an angry animal, and in a moment he had thrust Dot back against the protecting corner of the wall.

“You are not hurt?” she gasped.

“No; I am not.” His words fell clipped and stern, though spoken scarcely above a whisper. “Don’t speak! Get back up the steps–as quickly as you can!”

The command was so definite, so peremptory, that she had no thought of disobeying. But as she moved there came to her the sound of running feet. Hill stayed her with a gesture. She saw something gleam in his hand as he did so, and realized that he was not defenceless.

Her heart seemed to spring into her throat. She stood tense.

Nearer came the feet and nearer. The suspense of waiting was torture. She thought it would never end. Then suddenly, just as she looked to see a man spring from the opening of that narrow passage, they stopped.

A voice spoke. “All right! Don’t shoot!” it said, and a great throb of amazement went through her. That voice–careless, debonair, half-laughing–awoke deep echoes in her heart.

A moment later Warden came calmly round the corner, his great figure looming gigantic in that confined space.

He held out his hand. “I’m sorry you’ve had a fright. I fired that shot. It was a signal to the men to line up for inspection.”

He spoke with the utmost frankness, yet it came to Dot with an intuition she could not doubt that Hill did not believe him. He returned the revolver to his pocket, but he kept a hold upon it, and he made no movement to take the hand Warden offered.

“We came to inspect the mine, not the men,” he said, shortly. “Go back and tell them to clear out!”

Dot, mutely watching, saw Warden’s brows go up. He had barely glanced at her. “Oh, all right, sir,” he said, easily. “They’ve hardly left off work yet. I’ll let ’em know in good time. But first I’ve got something to show you. Come this way!”

He turned towards the main passage, but in a second, sharp and short, Fletcher’s voice arrested him.

“Warden!”

He swung on his heel. “Well, sir?”

“You will do as I said–immediately!” The words might have been uttered by a machine, so precise, so cold, so metallic were they.

Warden stood quite motionless, facing him, and it seemed to Dot that his eyes had become two blue flames, giving out light. The pause that followed was so instinct with conflict that she thought it must end in some terrible outburst of violence.

Then, to her amazement, Warden smiled–his candid, pleasant smile. “Certainly, if you make a point of it,” he said. “Perhaps you will walk up with me. The strong-room is on our way, and while you are looking at the latest specimens I will carry out your orders.”

He turned back with the words, and led the way towards the distant lamp that glimmered in the wall.

Stiffly Hill turned to the girl beside him. “Would you rather go back and wait for me?” he said.

“Oh, no!” she said, instantly. “No; I am coming too.”

He said no more, but grimly stalked in the wake of Warden.

The latter moved quickly till he reached the place where the lamp was lodged in a niche in the wall. Here he stopped, stooped, and fitted a key into a narrow door that had been let into the stone. It opened outwards, and he drew aside, waiting for Hill.