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Mr. Starr?” asked the young man.

      “No, my lad,” replied the engineer, “for I am anxious to be at your father’s cottage.”

      “Follow me then, Mr. Starr. I will guide you, and yet I daresay you could find your way perfectly well through this dark labyrinth.”

      “Yes, indeed! I have the whole plan of the old pit still in my head.”

      Harry, followed by the engineer, and holding his lamp high the better to light their way, walked along a high gallery, like the nave of a cathedral. Their feet still struck against the wooden sleepers which used to support the rails.

      They had not gone more than fifty paces, when a huge stone fell at the feet of James Starr. “Take care, Mr. Starr!” cried Harry, seizing the engineer by the arm.

      “A stone, Harry! Ah! these old vaultings are no longer quite secure, of course, and—”

      “Mr. Starr,” said Harry Ford, “it seems to me that stone was thrown, thrown as by the hand of man!”

      “Thrown!” exclaimed James Starr. “What do you mean, lad?”

      “Nothing, nothing, Mr. Starr,” replied Harry evasively, his anxious gaze endeavoring to pierce the darkness. “Let us go on. Take my arm, sir, and don’t be afraid of making a false step.”

      “Here I am, Harry.” And they both advanced, whilst Harry looked on every side, throwing the light of his lamp into all the corners of the gallery.

      “Shall we soon be there?” asked the engineer.

      “In ten minutes at most.”

      “Good.”

      “But,” muttered Harry, “that was a most singular thing. It is the first time such an accident has happened to me.

      “That stone falling just at the moment we were passing.”

      “Harry, it was a mere chance.”

      “Chance,” replied the young man, shaking his head. “Yes, chance.” He stopped and listened.

      “What is the matter, Harry?” asked the engineer.

      “I thought I heard someone walking behind us,” replied the young miner, listening more attentively. Then he added, “No, I must have been mistaken. Lean harder on my arm, Mr. Starr. Use me like a staff.”

      “A good solid staff, Harry,” answered James Starr. “I could not wish for a better than a fine fellow like you.”

      They continued in silence along the dark nave. Harry was evidently preoccupied, and frequently turned, trying to catch, either some distant noise, or remote glimmer of light.

      But behind and before, all was silence and darkness.

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